Acceptable Losses
by destra
Summary: Dean and Sam are racing against time to save a young girl. What is she trying to hide and why is she fighting them tooth and nail every step of the way? Is she even worth the effort?
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimer: All belongs to Kripke & Co. and I'm just having fun.

Just want to add that the whole Oktoberfest/Lederhosen gag was something that I wrote months before Monster Movie was even filmed and posted back in July on Supernatural TV's fiction board. Absolutely no spoiler was intended. Who knew the writers would dream up something that bizarre!!

Dean glanced down at his sleeping brother and shifted restlessly in his seat. The route through the mountains was slow going. He'd been driving four hours straight and the silence was getting to him. He'd turned the music off shortly after leaving Spokane in the hope that the engine noise would lull Sam off to some much-needed sleep. His little brother had finally drifted off and Dean didn't want anything to disturb him. He looked longingly at his cassette player. Dean really hated silence. It always led to thoughts and memories he'd just as soon not revisit. He slowed the Impala as he approached the outskirts of Seattle, but became distracted as Sam started to twitch and mutter in his sleep. Dean became increasingly anxious as he watched his brother become more and more agitated.

"Come on Sammy," he groaned. "Not now Dude!"

Sam yelled out and doubled over, clutching his head. He then shot back, cracking the side of his head against the car window. Dean threw his right arm out to try to hold Sam back as he braked sharply and pulled onto the side of the road. He leapt out and raced around to Sam's side of the car, but wasn't in time to catch his brother as he tumbled out into the dirt. Dean reached down to help Sam sit up but his brother twisted away and was violently sick.

"Oh come on man, that's just gross!" chided Dean. "Don't you get anything on my baby."

Sam didn't respond. He slumped down with his head on his knees and waited for the nausea to subside. Dean rested a hand on the back of his brother's neck in a gesture of comfort and waited patiently for Sam to settle.

"What did you see Sammy?"

"Man, you don't want to know!"

"True enough," sighed Dean, "but you're gonna tell me anyway, so lets have it."

"They were just little kids Dean, and she slashed them to pieces. They were screaming for their Mom's and she kept hacking…."

"Shhh Sam. Settle down. Just breathe."

Sam dropped his head and raked his hands through his hair. He swallowed compulsively in an obvious attempt to avoid vomiting again. Dean grasped both his brother's wrists and pulled his arms down.

"Sammy! Talk to me. Can we stop it? D'you think it's happened already?"

"I don't think so. It would have been all over the news if it had."

"Okay, up you come." Dean reached down and offered Sam a hand. Let's get you back in the car Sam." Once he had his brother settled, Dean got back behind the wheel. "Okay. Where we heading? Please don't say East Coast because I'm so wasted I'd even let you drive."

Sam closed his eyes and pictured the banner he'd seem in the classroom. "Mount Angel Elementary. Hang on." He leaned back and pulling a book of maps from under the seat, flicked through looking for the shortest route. "Head for Portland. It's only 30 odd miles from there."

"That's doable," assured Dean, trying not to wince at the thought of another three hours driving. "We could be there before school ends."

Sam nodded briefly before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the side of the car. He pulled away again with a grunt and ruefully rubbed the side of his head.

"Yeah you cracked it pretty hard earlier. It's not like you've got that many brains cells left to waste geek boy."

Sam didn't respond. He just looked straight ahead and willed Dean to move faster. Dean's attention alternated between the road and his wiped out little brother. He stopped only once to fill the car and grab some food as they headed out towards Oregon.

Mount Angel was an attractive small tourist town nestled between farmland and foothills, on Highway 214. Some of the shop fronts had an old world flavour and Dean spotted a banner advertising Oktoberfest, the yearly celebration of the town's German heritage. "Hope you packed your leather shorts Sammy!"

"Lederhosen."

"Right back at you." grinned Dean.

"Not now Dean," snapped Sam. He was in no mood to fool around. "Lets find the school and get this done."

They arrived just as the school day was ending and parked in front of a strip mall across the street. Sam sat with his eyes glued to the rear view mirror watching the parents start to arrive to collect their offspring. Dean fell into an exhausted sleep.

Sam remained rigid with tension until he saw the children start to tumble out into the playground. He lurched forward and swung his arm out, hitting a sleeping Dean across the chest. "That's her."

Dean grunted irritably and adjusted the rear view mirror to study her discreetly.

"What? That pretty little thing? You sure Dude?"

"Trust me Dean. That face is seared into my memory."

Dean studied their quarry. She was petite and slender, with thick glossy brown hair. He wasn't close enough to see her face clearly, but she looked young and carefree. She was handing her pupils out to parents and seemed to have a smile and a friendly greeting for everyone. The playground emptied quickly and the other teachers drifted back into the school. The young woman was left with one little boy who started to become anxious. She dropped down on one knee and gave the child a quick reassuring hug before leading him over to the jungle gym. Dean was amused by the unselfconscious way she played with the little boy until his harassed looking mother pulled up and hurried across the playground.

"How many schools we go to Sam?"

"Never counted. Why?"

"Any of your teachers that hot?" he sighed.

Sam appeared to give this some serious consideration before turning to Dean with a grin. "Miss Edwards."

Dean chuckled. "Damn, I'd forgotten about her. I must have picked you up from school every day for two months straight."

The child's mother led him past the Impala, on their way into one of the stores. Dean's amusement died when he glanced over at his brother. Sam had his eyes squeezed shut and he was swallowing compulsively.

"That little boy Dean…"

"What?" queried Dean. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer.

"She takes his head clean off."

"Then we take her out Sammy." growled Dean, all attraction forgotten in an instant. "Now if we have too."

"It's Friday Dean. Schools done and we've got a day or two to figure it out. Let's do this thing right."

About an hour later the girl walked out into the parking lot. She was hurrying towards her car when another woman called after her, "Emma! You're on for Zach's right? You know where it is?

"Yeah, I do. Academy Street opposite the diner.

"See you there."

The boys followed her at a distance. Her house was situated in an older, slightly run down looking part of town. An elderly couple were working on their yard next door as the girl waved and hurried on into her house. The neighbours stopped work and watched her until she disappeared through her door, before turning their attention to the Impala. Dean drove on past and headed back towards the centre of town.

"What's the betting those two never sleep?" sighed Sam. "This is a small town man. We can't afford to get caught dragging her off."

"How about I get her to come back with me to a motel?"

"Small town school teacher? Doubt she's one of your usual quick lays."

"Not looking to screw her dude, come on! A little roofie, quick trip to the woods, sorted."

"You're not killing this girl Dean!" Sam stopped short and turned towards his brother. "You have Rohypnol?"

"Do I look like I need to drug chicks?" Dean retorted indignantly before heading off to find a motel.

Dean pulled into a rundown looking establishment and dropped Sam outside the office. While he waited, he ran through their first aid kit, looking for something he could use to subdue their target. They were running low on essentials and Dean made a mental note to contact their supplier. Sam returned with the key and Dean grabbed their bags and followed him into the room.

Dean picked up a leaflet on the dresser advertising the upcoming four-day event.

"Sammy, look at this. They've got Wiener dog races and a Cruz 'N Car show. Maybe after we gank your girl we can stick around for a couple of days. What do you say?"

"Murder a local school teacher, then stick around for the festivities? This might just be your best plan ever Dean."

"You need to lighten up a little Sam." Catching his brother's incredulous expression, Dean thought he'd better start thinking about the job in hand. "Okay, where do we start? We'll have to separate her from the herd and deal with her elsewhere. All we have is morphine, which I don't want to waste and very little Halidol. He turned around to look at his brother with a smile.

"Hey Sammy. Remember that sleeper hold thing Dad taught us?"

"Yeah, but we've never used it and I'm not sure how safe it'd be on a girl. She's kind of little and…I don't know man. You even remember what to do?"

"OK. Turn around Sam."

"What? No way Dude! Come on!"

"Just relax Francis. You won't feel a thing. I'm not gonna choke you, Ok? I just need to cut the blood supply to your brain."

"That's all? No problem Dean. Have at it!"

"Come on dude. I need to get this right first time and I don't want to hurt her…well not right away."

"But you'll take that chance with me?" huffed Sam.

"Big difference between you and her Sasquatch," smirked Dean. "Now kneel down 'coz I'm not gonna catch your gargantuan ass." Sam rolled his eyes and dropping down on one knee, turned his back on Dean.

"If you kill me Dean, I swear to God..."

His words were cut off by Dean's powerful forearm pushing up under his chin and exposing his throat. He didn't apply any pressure to Sam's windpipe but used the fingers and thumb of his other hand to press against his carotid arteries. Within seconds Sam began to feel light-headed. The moment Dean felt his brother relax, he released him, lowering his body the rest of the way to the floor.

Sam felt his consciousness return in a rush, along with the sting from a sharp slap to his cheek. He blinked up into Dean's smug face.

"Hey there Sammy. How was that for you?"

"Get off me man!" snapped Sam as he pushed his brother back. "I feel like shit. How long was I out for?"

"Not nearly long enough. We can probably extend it if I keep the pressure on just a bit longer."

"No! It's not worth the risk. We only do this if there's no other option."

"I can't believe we've never used it before. You know...for civilians who get in our way. It's non lethal and relatively painless, right?"

"It's dangerous is what it is Dean," muttered Sam. "Do it wrong and you can stop someone's heart."

"You might have mentioned that before you agreed Dude! Now quit whining Princess," Dean grinned. "You're still here aren't you?"

Sam reached into his duffle and dug out a clean shirt. He shook it out and picking up his wash bag, headed for the bathroom.

Sam, make it quick. We'd better go find that bar.

"Just need a shave."

"Give it up Dude. You'll never be as pretty as me!"

The bar was situated in a busy street surrounded by small shops and restaurants. The boys chose a diner across the street from the entrance and settled down to wait for her to arrive. They watched her pull up in her car. She looked around for her friends, checked the doors were locked and settled down to wait. When a friend arrived she jumped out and they entered the bar together.

"Smart girl," sighed Sam. "She not gonna make this easy." They dropped some notes on the table and wandered across the road.

Zach's was packed out and loud, but the atmosphere appeared laid-back and welcoming. Dean spotted her almost immediately sitting at a table with four friends. He wandered slowly past her and leaned on the bar. Sam disappeared towards the men's room to check alternative exits while Dean got the beers. He listened in for a few minutes as the girls bantered back and forth.

One of the women spotted him and started whispering to her friends. Emma looked up and caught his eye. When he flashed her a cocky grin she felt herself flush and looked away quickly. He was one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. The man exuded self-confidence. He also screamed trouble! He kept glancing over at her. Her friends noticed his interest and started trying to encourage her to make a move. Emma kept her head down and watched him out of the corner of her eye. After a couple of minutes another equally handsome man joined him at the bar.

"Oh my," muttered one of the girls. "Right there are two of the hottest looking men in this town since….ever. Ladies, we can't let them go to waste."

Dean heard Emma squeak, "Holly, don't you dare!" He smiled and turned to face Holly as she approached. She introduced herself, accepted Dean's offer of a drink and after a few minutes of small talk, invited them to join their table. The boys agreed and Dean pulled up a chair alongside Emma. She looked up when he introduced himself. His handsome face was angular and hard, but saved from toughness by the mischievous spark in his very beautiful almond shaped eyes. Another feature, which caught her eye, was the light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. They looked somehow out of place when teamed up with the stubble on his chin, but added a boyish charm to an otherwise world weary and cynical face. Emma prided herself on her ability to read peoples characters. While Sam seemed slightly embarrassed and out of his element, she still sensed his underlying kindness, Dean on the other hand, despite his outward charm, seemed slightly hostile and somehow threatening.

All his attempts at drawing her out were met with polite but abrupt responses. Dean really wasn't a particularly vain man. He took his extraordinary good looks for granted and regarded his handsome face as a weapon of sorts, just another tool of the trade and usually something he could rely on as a shortcut to achieving his goals. He started to feel irritated by her aloof attitude. It didn't help that Sam was clearly enjoying watching him flounder in such unfamiliar territory.

Emma, meanwhile, was dying inside. This stunning man was definitely showing an interest and here she was, like a rabbit in the headlights. The girls were going to kill her when she bogged this up.

After a few more minutes Dean gave up. He turned to one of the other girls and flirted half-heartedly for a few minutes before catching Sam's eye and jerking his head towards the exit. After they'd excused themselves, they returned to the bar to pay their tab.

"She's clearly frigid Sammy, nothing I can do."

"Maybe she's just got standards," grinned Sam.

As they turned to leave, one of the girls could be heard to hiss, "For Christ's sake Emma, you planning on being a virgin your whole life?"

"See Sam?" smirked Dean. "Frigid."

He glanced back at her in irritation and was startled to see the look of abject misery and embarrassment on her face. He felt a stab of pity that he couldn't explain, and then strode out into the car park. Sam rolled his eyes and followed him out.

Dean already had the engine running as Sam dropped himself into the passenger seat. He barely got the door shut before Dean was on the move.

"Where we headed?"

"Her place. I want to check it out before we tackle her."

"She wasn't what I was expecting."

"Why because she's hot? How many butt-ugly demons have you met Sam? They like the pretty meat."

"No, it's not just her looks. She was kind of sweet and awkward and," grinned Sam, "not at all into you." Dean just snorted, but didn't comment. "I'm not sure what to make of her," continued Sam. "She's either very, very good or she hasn't any idea what's happening to her. Do you think...?"

"Don't know," dismissed Dean. "Don't much care. I do know that any one of those chicks could pick our fine asses out of a line-up so we need to get this done. I'm telling you now, there's no way we're letting her set foot back in that school. Let's just grab her and beat it."


	2. Chapter 2

The boys swiftly picked the lock to the front door and let themselves in. The hall was littered with packing crates and stacks of books.

"She packing up to leave?"

Sam shrugged. "Looks more like she just got here," he observed as he picked up a pile of redirected mail. "She moved here from San Francisco."

A car pulled up outside. Dean pulled back a curtain and watched Emma move towards the door. "Shit! She didn't waste any time. D'you think she made us?"

Sam and Dean moved back from the doorway and stood just inside the kitchen. Emma was talking on her cell phone. She paused as she opened the door.

"Bugger it Holly, I think I forgot to lock up." After a pause she continued, "No I'm not trying to change the subject. I've already said sorry for driving them off, but I didn't see you girls jumping in there either."

She dumped her bag and flopped into a chair. "I didn't say he wasn't my type, but you can guarantee I'm not his." She listened to Holly's squawking for a while, before interrupting. "No that's not what I'm saying. My self-esteem is just fine thank you very much. It's just that he's obviously passing through and looking for a quick shag. Besides, he was way prettier than me. It's just not natural."

She listened and laughed at something her friend said. It was a low throaty sound that caused Dean to feel an involuntary stab of lust. "I know and there were two of them! What was his mate's name? Sam? I thought the same thing. We're so going to hell aren't we? She listened for another minute before interrupting. "Enough Holly, go to bed!" Another pause. "Yes alone. Don't let me hear that you spent half the night trying to track down those two poor, innocent boys. " She laughed again at Holly's comeback. "Oh God, now I've got that visual burned into my brain! Go away Holly." She rubbed her hand over her face and closed her eyes. "Listen, I'm really sorry but I'm going to give tomorrow a miss. I just feel like crap." Another pause. "No, nothing really. I'm just not sleeping so well, dreams you wouldn't believe, and I've got so much to catch up on. Yeah, you too Babe. I'll see you Monday." She hung up on her friend and tossing her phone aside, leaned back into her chair.

Glancing towards the kitchen Emma noticed a figure reflected in a glass cabinet. She slowly reached for her purse and pulled out a small handgun. With her other hand she retrieved her phone, then stood up slowly on legs that felt like jelly.

"Get your arse out here right now."

Dean reached for his weapon, but Sam shook his head. He moved into the other room with his hands held out to the side in a non-threatening manner.

"Hi Emma," he improvised. "Sorry, we were trying not to startle you. Remember, we met earlier? What are you doing here?"

"And what's with the gun?" added Dean indignantly. He moved forward slowly and stepped between Emma and his brother, much to Sam's irritation.

"I live here."

"Really? Holly didn't say she had a roommate," Dean lied smoothly.

"OK. I'm confused," said Emma. The boys noted the tremor of fear in her voice. "I'm pissed off and I've got a gun, so can you explain to me why you're in my house?"

"Holly said she'd meet us here. Door was open," smiled Sam reassuringly.

"I was just talking to Holly. That's bull."

Emma jerked her head back around to Dean and looked at him with wide-eyed horror. "Oh God!" she groaned. "You were listening just now weren't you?" Dean just gave her a cocky grin and a wink.

"Um, I think maybe there's been some sort of mistake," mumbled Sam.

"I think we've all just been set up," smiled Dean apologetically. "Holly told us there was a surprise party..."

Her expression cleared suddenly and she lowered her weapon and turned to face Sam. "Oh look! I'm really sorry. This is so not funny." Emma was just curling up with embarrassment. "I'm going to kill her."

Dean moved up behind her and swept the gun away. "Safety's still on sweetheart. I'm thinking you haven't handled a weapon before? If you're going to wave this around, you'd better damn well learn how to use it."

"No, I don't want to. After all that stuff in San Francisco... it seemed like a good idea to get one. It's OK," she assured him. "It's not loaded."

"What?" spluttered an incredulous Dean. "Why the hell not?"

"I meant to get ammo too, but I bottled. It's not like I'm planning on shooting anyone!"

"For Christ's sake! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to point an unloaded weapon at someone? I could have shot you."

"Marginally less dangerous than a fully loaded one I'd guess," she snapped. "It's really none of your business so give it back. The next person I'm aiming that thing at is Holly."

"No way are you getting this back. Forget about it." He checked the gun over quickly before tucking it into the back of his jeans alongside his own weapon.

"Hey! You can't just take it. Who are you people and tell me again, what the hell are you still doing in my house?"

"Emma," interrupted Sam. "What happened in San Francisco?"

"Oh, just some weird stuff. It seems so stupid now, but at that time I panicked." She stopped short and looked at Sam in confusion. "What am I telling you for?" She spun around to watch as Dean moved around her house, searching for God knows what. "Hey! Do you mind?"

Dean didn't give her a second glance. "Dude," he sighed, "check it out."

Keeping a wary eye on Emma, Sam moved over and looked down at the floor. Dean had noticed some wood shavings scattered in front of the door. He pushed the rug aside to reveal symbols and text freshly carved into the wooden floor. "What's the betting that doesn't say Welcome?" Dean snarked. He moved around the house, pushing furniture aside and taking pictures off the walls, revealing more markings. "Well hell!" he snarled. "This looks like a complication."

Emma took in all the scratches and marks on the floor and walls. "What the hell have you done you morons?" she hissed. "I'm renting this place." She stalked around the room looking at the damage. When she saw the carving on the floor she turned to Dean and snapped, "Just great! I can't really paint over that can I? I can kiss my deposit goodbye. Enough is enough."

Realising that she still had the phone in her hand she started to call the police. Dean leaned over her and deftly snagged it from her. "Come on, cut the crap," he smirked as he slapped the phone shut. "I'm not buying the innocent little schoolteacher song and dance. You know more than you're letting on. Start with what these are for."

"How the hell should I know?" raged Emma. "You tell me!"

"Sam? See anything you recognize?"

"Not much. I've seen that one before," said Sam as he pointed to the carving on the floor.

Dean pulled his father's journal from an inside pocket and tossed it to Sam, who started flicking through. "Dad's got it here," he said as he ran his hand over the symbol. "It's to mark a meeting place for a coven. The rest I'd have to research."

"You're a witch?" hissed Dean. "I really, really hate frickin' witches!"

"What? Witches aren't real you stupid bastard."

"Oh sweetheart," he said mockingly. "That's where you're wrong. You think you're the first one I've ever met? I wish!"

"You know Salam is only 18 miles northeast of here. I'm sure you can still find some locals who would be willing to help you string up some poor old cow."

"We need to get out of here man," urged Sam. "This isn't good."

"No shit. What do we do about that?" snapped Dean, jerking his head towards Emma.

"We'll have to take her. We don't know for sure how deep she's in. We don't have too many options."

"There're always options Sammy," he murmured. "Bludgeoning. strangulation. Drowning's good…no mess, no noise. Also," smirked Dean as he warmed to his idea, "kind of an old traditional way of offing witches."

Sam just ignored him until he noticed Emma's wide-eyed panic. He threw her a weak smile and a quick shake of the head. Turning to Dean, he rapped, "Dean! That's enough!" In a lower tone he added, "She's still human. We can't..."

"We're assuming that's so," shrugged Dean. His hand snaked out and grabbing her roughly by the wrist he yanked her against him. Ignoring her yelp of alarm, he leaned down into her face and shouted, "Christo." Not getting the reaction he was half hoping for, he then pulled out his flask and splashed the contents in her face. Emma spluttered with rage and tried to yank her arm away from Dean's iron grip.

Dean sighed heavily with disappointment and released her wrist. "We're going for a ride. Pack whatever crap you need."

"What? Why? I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Yeah, you are. We're going, you're coming."

"Oh, you're going alright," said Emma as she stormed towards the door. "Now piss off back to Holly and tell her..." As she got it open, Dean came up behind her and reaching over her head, slammed the door shut. Emma spun away and dashed towards the kitchen door. Sam moved swiftly to intercept and she landed against his chest with a solid thump. He grunted slightly as he reached out to steady her. She backed away, looking from one to the other.

"This has gone far enough! Don't you touch me," she hissed. "Don't you dare."

Dean kept moving towards her slowly. Up close, she wasn't as tall as she'd first appeared. Dean straightened himself up to his full 6ft 1 inch in an attempt to intimidate her. She barely reached his shoulder and probably didn't weigh much over 110 pounds, but she copied him, trying to stretch out another inch or two. Sam watched the two of them facing off and couldn't suppress a grin. She was like a little pocket Dean. Dean didn't see the funny side and scowled at his brother over her head. He continued to inch towards her and when he got close enough, Emma suddenly kicked out with all the force she could muster. Dean was ready for her and easily sidestepped. He used her momentum to topple her over backwards and knock her legs out from under her, catching her cleanly and breaking her fall; he pushed her down flat and straddled her. The girl fought back with silent ferocity, landing a painful punch on his ear.

"Will you quit that!" grunted Dean. "Last thing I want to do right now is hurt you so just calm yourself down!"

As Dean struggled to keep her still, Emma squirmed and wriggled and tried to get out from under him. Dean was reminded of the last time he fought with someone this small. Meg! He hadn't much cared whether or not he hurt that black-eyed bitch, but this felt all kinds of wrong. It took very little real effort to subdue her, but she was fighting so hard he was afraid she was going to break something. Feeling uncomfortable, Dean loosened his grip slightly. Emma wrenched her hand free and backhanded him hard across the face.

"All right, enough already!" Dean snarled. He gripped both thin wrists in one hand and used his forearm across her shoulders, pressing her down and holding her still. "A little help here Sammy!" he shouted.

Sam had left her to Dean as he did a quick sweep through the house. He hurried back to help his brother.

"Dude! Go easy," huffed Sam. "You're gonna hurt her."

"No shit Sherlock! Take her a minute, will you?" Sam moved up behind her head and reaching down pulled her out from under Dean. Drawing her back against him, he crossed her arms tightly over her chest and held her still. Realising what Dean had in mind, Sam cautioned, "Dean, man, hold on. I don't know…"

Catching Sam's worried look he sighed, "Yeah I know, but she's not gonna make this easy and she's got neighbours." As Dean raised his hands and reached for her neck, Emma's shock gave way to panic and she twisted and bucked in Sam's powerful arms.

"No, please," she cried. "No, wait, don't." She started to scream. It was a high piercing note of pure panic that made Dean wince. He took a hold of her jaw, forced it shut and covered her mouth. With his other hand, he reached for each side of her neck and pressed firmly. '_How much easier would this have been_,' he pondered, '_if she could have just agreed to come back to the motel with me? Upwards of ninety percent of women didn't need asking twice._'

She started to lose consciousness very quickly and her head slumped forwards. Dean kept the pressure on her neck until Sam snapped, "That's enough Dean!" He tipped her back into the circle of his arm, quickly checking for a pulse and watching for the rise and fall of her chest before swinging her up into his arms.

Dean stood there admiring his work until Sam snapped, "What are you waiting for Dude, a round of applause? What about her things?"

"We can get what she needs later, let's get going."

"No. It's got to look like she's on a trip. We'll have to take her car too and dump it at the bus station. She's got people who'll come looking for her when she doesn't turn up at school on Monday."

"Give her here Sam. You lived with a woman, so you know what she needs, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just go get the car Dean. I've got it." He moved into her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Quickly going through her closet, he pulled out a couple of pairs of jeans and several tops. Dean walked back in dragging a packing crate as Sam was sorting through socks and underwear. Ignoring Dean's smirk, he moved into the bathroom and grabbed her make up bag, some shampoo, and anything else he thought a woman wouldn't leave home without. Eyeing the packing crate, Sam frowned, "I wasn't planning on taking her whole wardrobe Dude."

"The old girl across the way is hanging out of her window," shrugged Dean. "We'll have to take her in this. Listen man, we're gonna have to give her a shot. She wakes up before we're clear of this town, we're so screwed."

"Fine. It'll have to be the Halidol then."

Dean grinned and raised his left hand. He'd already drawn up a syringe which he passed to Sam.

"How much are you giving her?" Dean queried anxiously. "I didn't know so I just loaded it up."

"Hell, I don't know Dean. They didn't cover this in kidnapping 101. How much do you reckon she weighs?

"Not that much. She's smaller than I thought and curvy." He continued to appraise her with detached interest. "Slim curvy, not fat curvy"

"Could you be a little more specific Dean?" snapped Sam, rolling his eyes. Something in Lbs maybe."

"Last time I played guess a woman's weight, I got my face slapped. You listen to your big brother Sammy. Don't ever go there."

"She's out cold Dude," grinned Sam. "You're safe! Now hurry up."

Dean huffed out a breath before reaching down and scooping her up. He hefted her in his arms for a second, before dumping her unceremoniously back on the bed. "No more than 110, 115 lbs max." He eyed her tight skirt and high heels. "She can't go in those."

"Well I'm not undressing her," said Sam as he tossed Dean the bag, "and neither are you," he added quickly before Dean could offer. Sam quickly injected the drug into the girls thigh, then pulled her shoes off and put them in her closet. Grabbing a pair of boots, he handed them to Dean. "See if you can find her purse and keys."

Sam folded her carefully into the crate. Dean carelessly dropped her bag and boots in on top of her before tossing the keys to her car to Sam. Between them they carried the box out to the Impala. Under the cover of a thick hedge dividing the house from the neighbouring property, Dean tipped her out of the crate and dumped her on the ground.

"Dude!" hissed Sam. "Take care with her will you!"

Dean glanced down dispassionately at the unconscious girl lying at his feet, then, with a shrug, reached down and rolled her up into his arms. She felt small and frail and just for a moment he felt a stab of unease before throwing it off. Sammy had never steered them wrong before. He maneuvered her onto the back seat and avoiding his brother's glare, he flipped her over onto her front, tied her hands behind her back and covered her over with a blanket he'd taken from the trunk. Dean then turned her head to make sure her airway was clear, before climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine. Sam locked the house up before jumping into Emma's car.


	3. Chapter 3

The boys stopped off at their motel and after loading up all their gear, Dean headed off towards the bus station with Sam following in Emma's car. After ten minutes Sam was alarmed to see the Impala driving erratically. Dean swerved off the road, bumping over rough ground, before righting himself and skidding to a halt. Sam pulled up just in time to see Dean drag Emma out and dump her on the ground. He tied her legs, gagged her, hauled her up and tossing her up over his shoulder, strode back up the road towards Sam.

Sam leapt out of Emma's car as Dean reached past him and pulled on the trunk release lever. He watched his brother tighten his grip on a struggling Emma and stride to the rear of the car and yank open the trunk. "Dean? What happened? What's going on?"

Dean didn't reply as he started to slide Emma off his shoulder. She realized what he had in mind and started to struggle in earnest. Dean dropped her none too gently into the trunk and slammed the door.

Sam looked horrified. "What the hell! Dude, you can't do that!

"You didn't give her enough Sam. She woke up and tried to kick me in the head," ranted Dean. "I could have wrecked my car. No way she's riding with me."

Sam reached past him to open the trunk, but Dean elbowed him away. As they stood glaring at each other, the silence was broken by the muffled sound of hitching sobs. Dean wasn't moved by Sam's furious bitchface, so his brother changed tactics and tried the soulful puppy dog eyes. That, combined with the pitiful crying coming from the trunk, proved too much for Dean. His shoulders slumped as he reached down to open it up.

"We have to dump her car anyway man," reasoned Sam. "You can't switch her at the bus station. Let me take her in your car and you can drive hers."

Dean looked outraged. "You're not driving that witch around loose in my car Sam! What the hell are you thinking?"

Sam just rolled his eyes and waited for Dean to bow to the inevitable. With a snarl, Dean turned and reached for the girl. Sam caught his arm and pulled him back a step. "Enough Dean. You're not hurting this girl. We don't know what's happening here yet."

"I wasn't gonna hurt her Jackass," retorted Dean. "She rides with me."

They both looked down at Emma. She was curled up in a tight ball with her eyes tightly shut. Through her gag she was muttering the same words over and over.

"Dude!" warned Dean. "She's going for a spell!"

"That's not a spell," sighed Sam. "She's praying."

"Who to?" snarled Dean.

They parked her car at the bus station, and then using her credit card at an automated ticket machine, Sam bought her a ride to San Francisco. He returned to the Impala to find Emma and Dean staring each other down. Dean drove for five hours before stopping at a small rundown motel. The rooms were made up of individual cabins set against a backdrop of pine trees. Ideal if you wanted to avoid the neighbors listening through the walls. Sam opened the rear door and untied her legs and wrists. He pulled her gently across the seat and helped her sit while she got some feeling back into her stiff limbs. As he untied the gag and tossed it aside, he quietly explained, "Emma, I know this is terrifying and you don't know what's happening, but I'll explain everything once we're inside."

Dean returned with the key to the most isolated cabin. Without looking at her, he opened the trunk and started stuffing weapons into bags. Sam eased her up onto her feet.

"Do you need some help?" Sam asked gently, eyeing her bare feet.

"No." she croaked. "Get away from me."

She took a step on rubber legs before realising she wasn't going to make it. Without a word, Sam put his hands under her elbows. With as much dignity as she could muster, and Sam supporting most of her weight, she shuffled towards the cabin. As she passed Dean, her eyes widened at the sight of the contents of the trunk. She spun her head around in the hope that someone might see them. The place looked totally deserted and they were too far from the office to be heard. Catching her eye, Dean grabbed the last of the bags and hustled them inside. Emma paused just inside the door.

"You you've got to be kidding me!" she snapped at Dean.

"What?" queried Dean

"It's seriously shit."

"No this place is good," explained Dean with exaggerated patience. "You can't see the car from the road and…" he added spitefully, "nobody will hear you scream."

"Oh, ha bloody ha!" she snarled. In truth it wasn't as bad as she'd feared. There were two queen sized beds and a sofa. The tiny kitchen and bathroom areas were clean and the bedding looked fresh.

Sam eased her down on the sofa and Dean dumped her bag at her feet. He then reached down and snatched up her purse before emptying out the contents onto the bed. Emma squealed with outrage and pulled herself up off the sofa. Dean held her off with one hand as he riffled through her things and pocketed her phone.

"Okay, little witch." smirked Dean. "It's time to find out if you sink or float."

"You can't be serious."

"Or you could always get your kit off and let me check you for the devils mark. Got any third nipples, moles? No? I'd even settle for a birth mark"

"You're insane," she hissed.

"That's enough Dean," barked Sam. "There's an easy way to settle this Emma. There are a couple of tests I could run if you can give me a sample of a body fluid."

"Dude," shuddered Dean, "that's just nasty!"

"Saliva will do just fine," Sam said hurriedly.

"Step closer Dean." snarled Emma. "I'm sure I could work up a good gob of spit."

Half an hour and three negative results later, Dean was a very disappointed man. He'd been so sure of her guilt and now they faced a much more complicated problem.

"So," he sighed as he looked over at Sam. "What are we dealing with here? We know it's not demonic possession, right? It seems she's just naturally this obnoxious."

Sam gave his brother a warning look and moving towards Emma, dropped down in front of her chair. "Emma," he opened with a sympathetic smile. "We have to talk. There's a situation and I don't know how to explain it to you. Dean's my brother and we go around helping people in unusual..."

Dean rolled his eyes and bumped Sam aside. "We don't have time to sugar-coat it Dude. Remember the kids?" Leaning down and getting right in Emma's face, he took a hold of her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "Listen to me now because I don't have time to break this to you gently. Your class, the kids - they're all gonna die."

The boys watched the color drain from her face.

She recovered quickly, yanked her chin away and hissed, "If you touch one hair on any of their heads you piece of shit..."

"No! Not us. It's you. You offed them all with a machete...right Sam? Tell her what you saw."

Sam dropped his head into his hands and raked his hair back off his face. For once, why couldn't Dean keep his yap shut and let him deal with it. Emma misinterpreted his gesture and decided to plead with the saner member of this duo.

"Sam, listen to me, please. I know he's your brother and you think you can care for him, but he needs some really serious help. If you take him to hospital and get him what he needs, I swear I won't even press charges. We can still fix this."

Sam couldn't prevent a short bark of laughter escaping at the indignant expression on Dean's face. His brother made a move towards her, which Sam blocked.

"Listen up bitch..."

"Oh shut it pretty boy! The grown-ups are talking here. Don't you have some basket weaving you could be getting on with?"

Sam tried to tune out their bickering as he struggled to come up with a way to convince her that they weren't both certifiable. Nothing came to mind.

"Emma," he began again, "I wish it was that simple. I really do. Dean's not lying to you. We're just trying to stop this happening. We had to…er, take you with us to buy us some time. Look, this is real and we can't just can't let you..."

Emma listened incredulously as Sam tried to outline the situation. "OooooK," she interrupted. "Well your lunatic sidekick here is clearly psychotic. What's your excuse? He's threatening little kids. What kind of gutless freak are you? Do something about him!"

"Have you heard anything we've said to you?" snarled Dean.

"No, I was listening. You and your spineless, pathetic wimp of a brother drive around in an old banger with a trunk stuffed with weapons and some seriously freaky other crap. You hunt down spooky shit and kidnap people along the way for jolly's."

Dean thought for a moment before replying. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. Except for the kidnapping, we usually just end baby killers, and my car is not an old banger you ignorant bitch!"

Emma laughed. She just couldn't help it. "Sam, I can call you spineless and a pathetic wimp but he only notices the insult to his car. Doesn't that just give you the warm fuzzies?"

Sam felt that she had a point but chose to let it slide. He needed to think this through. "Dean, there's a diner across the way. I'm going to find some food. Try not to smack her about too much while I'm gone."

When Sam returned, he heard raised voices as he approached the cabin. The door was flung open and Emma appeared briefly, before being yanked back out of sight.

"For the last time," said Dean as he grabbed both her upper arms and started to haul her back into the room, "you aren't going anywhere."

Emma spun around to face him and bringing her arm up, sprayed perfume directly into his eyes. Dean fell back with a yell of pain and scrubbed at his eyes to try to clear his vision. Emma turned on her heel headed for the door. She looked back over her shoulder and said, "It's been a slice. You come after me again and I'll…"

At that instant she bounced off a solid mass blocking her exit.

"What's going on?" sighed Sam. "Can't I leave the pair of you for five minutes without it resulting in bloodshed?"

Dean didn't respond. Grabbing a bottle of water from Sam he poured it over his face, before taking a threatening step towards Emma. Seeing the look in his bloodshot eyes, she pulled back further against Sam.

"Come here Emma," said Dean very quietly. The menace in his deep, growling voice was all too obvious. She suppressed an involuntary shudder. Emma felt her heart start to pound. "I said come here, _now_."

"No! Screw you handsome. Enough! You're not doing this to me any more. I'm leaving now," replied Emma calmly. She was surprised how steady her voice sounded.

Dean's patience snapped. He stalked across the room, reached past Sam, and gripping Emma by the scruff of the neck, swung her away from his brother.

"For God's sake Dean," Sam intervened. "Don't."

Again, Dean just ignored him. Emma didn't try to fight him as he hauled her back across the room. She felt too scared, sick and light headed. The truth was that this man really terrified her. All her instincts told her that he was a heartbeat away from killing her. Dean hesitated when Emma flinched away. He found to his annoyance that he felt guilty when he saw the look of fear on her face. She tensed again and looked around for any means of escape.

"Stop it!" Dean growled, dropping her down onto a chair. Emma reared up instantly, only to be pushed back down none too gently. Dean bent over and gripped both armrests, cutting off her escape. He leaned in, bringing his face far too close for comfort. Emma steeled herself not to react.

"Look at me Emma! This has got to stop. Can't you see we're trying to protect you?" he tried to reason. "The plan has always been to deal with this thing and to get you back home," he said trying hard to make his voice sound calmer and gentler than he was feeling.

Emma forced herself curb her feeling of panic. She felt that she knew what she was dealing with now and had to buy some time until she could escape. "Listen," she pleaded. "This is too much to take in. You'll have to give me a moment here."

Dean nodded briefly and moved away from her. Sam started downloading the pictures of symbols from his phone and began to an internet search. She'd obviously been targeted and he needed more information before he contacted Bobby for help.

Dean looked through the bags Sam had brought back from the diner and started bitching about the lack of cheeseburgers. He took his keys and phone out of the pockets of his jeans and slid them under his pillow, before stretching out on his bed.

After half an hour Emma got to her feet and wandered aimlessly around the room. The boys ignored her after a while. When Dean got up to make coffee, she flopped down onto his bed for a moment before heading for the bathroom. Dean and was in front of her instantly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Loo," she snapped.

"Who?" frowned Dean.

"God," she snarled. "Bog, can, John, toilet, just get out of my way." She ducked past him and slamming the door in his face, turned the lock.

Dean leaned his head against the door for a moment before whispering to Sam. "Dude, around the back. No noise, no fuss."

Sam shot out the door and jogged around the side of the building. He saw the small window open and staying close to the wall, against the hedging, he watched her pull herself through the narrow opening, headfirst. Sam waited until she had reached the point of no return and was off balance, gripping onto the frame to stop herself landing headfirst. He straightened up, and catching her under the shoulders, clapped a large hand over her mouth and nose. Before she could collect her wits, he pulled her through the rest of the way. Keeping his hand over her face, Sam wrapped his other arm around her waist and hurried without a word back to their room. He kicked the door shut after him and set her down gently. Emma spun away from him and looked from one to the other, her face flushed with indignation.

"Listen up little girl!" fumed Dean. "You're getting to be way more trouble than you're worth. You stay calm now because if you start screeching, I will put you out again."

He took a deep calming breath. "Let's try this again shall we. You're here until we say otherwise."

"Or until you're ready to trust us to help you sort this...whatever it is," reasoned Sam. He reached into his duffle and tossed her an amulet. "Put that on. You need to wear it at all times."

"It's seriously ugly," she observed. Dean rolled his eyes.

"We'll have Cartier run a little something up for the next time we kidnap a Paris Hilton wannabe. You'll also need to cover your scent." He handed her a grey-green bottle of liquid. "Get in there," Dean ordered as he bundled her towards the bathroom, "change your clothes and wash with this."

Emma took it and sniffed it suspiciously. "What in God's name is that? There's no way...it honks."

"It'll cover your tracks. Do it, or so help me I'll do it for you. Leave the door..."

"No way you pervert. You're not watching!"

Dean looked her over with a slow, mocking insolence. 'God she's hot,' he thought. 'Why are all the hell-bound chicks always so hot?' Snapping himself out of it, he sneered. "Don't flatter yourself darlin.' That whole witch vibe is an instant turn off. The door stays unlocked."

Emma barged past him into the bathroom and slammed the door. To his intense irritation, he heard the lock click. He raised his leg to kick the door in, but Sam pushed it down before he could follow through. "We can't afford to draw attention to ourselves Dean. Just watch the door, I'll go around and take the window."

As Sam hurried out to keep watch, he paused to look back at his brother. "Dean, we can't stay here man. She's going to get us caught."

"I know. I was thinking Bobby."

"Or Ellen? She'd know how to deal with her."

"Not Ellen. Too many hunters wanting a piece of you at the Roadhouse. And Jo. Can you imagine Emma and Jo, together, at the same time?"

Both men paused to picture that truly horrible prospect.

"Bobby's our best bet," said Dean hurriedly. "I'll call, tell him we're on our way."

As Sam ducked out of the room to watch the window, Dean reached under his pillow for his phone. It wasn't there. Neither were his car keys. The throaty roar of the Impala reached him as he leapt over the bed and barrelled straight into Sam as he burst through the door.

"She didn't."

"Oh yes she did," rapped out Sam. "How the hell did she have the time?"

"Because she's fast like a demonic freak is how. Son of a bitch," Dean raged. "Son of a BITCH! Sam, pack us up. I'll get us a car and meet you out front."


	4. Chapter 4

They picked up Emma's trail almost immediately. She didn't see the boys in their stolen minivan as she performed a U-turn and doubled back, parking round the back of the neighbouring diner.

Dean smiled grimly. "You gotta hand it to her Sammy, I'd never have started looking that close to home. Okay lets get this done." He pulled up behind the Impala and unlocked it using Sam's keys. Quickly rifling through their supply of fake ID's he held up two wallets. I've got CDC or US Marshals. Sick or criminal?"

"Whatever, sighed Sam as he pocketed a pair of handcuffs."

"Let's do both, smirked Dean. "Escaped nut job."

They spotted her sitting hunched down in a booth, going through the contents of her purse "Hello, little one," Dean murmured as they both slid into the booth, one on either side of her. Dean's deep, rumbling voice sent a shiver of fear down her spine as her head snapped up. "Oh crap," she exclaimed, looking from one to the other.

Dean smiled wickedly, enjoying her look of horror. "What's the matter, sweetheart, weren't you expecting us?"

"No way!" she declared forcefully. "This isn't happening. I'm safe now and the police are on the way. I just called them so you'd better take off."

Dean leaned in closer and Emma put both hands on his chest to push him back. From behind, Sam quickly frisked her and retrieved Dean's phone. He scrolled through recent calls and was relieved to see that the last number displayed was Bobby. He tossed the phone to Dean with a quick shake of his head.

"I used the payphone over…" her head spun around looking for a payphone.

"Emma, shut the f….hell up! We followed you in here and you didn't have time. Now you listen up because I mean this," he warned. "I swear to God, if I have to, I'll pick your sorry little ass up and carry you kicking and screaming out to the car!"

"Oh that will go down well with the locals," she sneered. "See those huge truckers sitting at the counter. They wouldn't let you get ten yards!"

Dean smirked and flipped open his wallet. Emma peered down at a US Marshall ID showing a smartly suited and smug looking Dean.

"He's got a matching one," said Dean, nodding towards a more sympathetic looking Sam. "So I suggest you don't embarrass yourself darlin' cause nobody would lift a finger."

Emma ground her teeth with rage and looked around for a possible rescuer. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's handling of the situation and tried a calmer, more reasonable approach. He stood and gently took hold of one of Emma's elbows.

"Emma, I'm truly sorry but I'm afraid that this isn't open to negotiation," he stated firmly. "You have my word we're going to get this sorted, but I need you to do exactly as you're told. Now walk quietly to the car."

"Oh yeah. That will work," grinned Dean, reaching for his badge and his weapon at the same time.

Right on cue, Emma started creating. She screamed out that Dean had a gun. Most of the customers shot under their tables or dropped to the floor. A couple of the truckers leapt to their feet and foolishly took a step towards Sam and Emma.

Holding his badge up, Dean called out. "Everybody stay calm. US Marshals." He beckoned one the truckers forward to inspect his badge.

"There's no cause for alarm." Sam stated calmly. "This young woman absconded from a secure psychiatric unit. We need to take her back for the treatment she needs."

"Don't listen to him!" she cried. " They're both nut jobs. Please, you have to believe me"

One of the other truckers moved closer and looked at their badges. He shrugged and said to Emma. "I'm sorry Miss."

"No listen," pleaded an increasingly desperate Emma. "They think I'm a witch and this one wants to drown me and they even made me..."

Putting on his most caring face Dean interrupted her babbling. "Miss, please. Don't make this any harder on yourself." He smiled apologetically at their waitress as he dropped some cash on the table. "Sorry for the scare folks. Enjoy your meals."

The waitress looked at Emma sympathetically and said, "I'm so sorry. Best you go with them and let them take care of things. You get well honey."

Taking Emma firmly by both upper arms, Sam steered her towards the door. When they got outside and out of sight Dean leaned towards her and hissed, "When I get you somewhere alone, I'm gonna kick your little bitch ass, so help me. You stole my freakin' car!"

"Oh stop whining. There isn't that much damage. Well, nothing a little panel beating, some T-cut..."

Sam was alarmed by the murderous expression on his brothers face. "Enough Dean! She's yanking your chain."

Dean grabbed hold of her shoulders, shaking her hard, his fingers digging in painfully. "You ever pull anything like this again, I swear to God, I'll beat the crap out of you."

"Never happen." she mocked. "You ever lay one cloven hoof on me, I'll cut your throat whilst you're sleeping."

"You listening to this Sam? Still think she needs your protection?"

He threw Emma roughly back towards Sam who caught and steadied her. Putting her hands on his chest, she reared back and broke his hold.

Tossing Sam the keys to the van, Dean moved up quietly behind her. Slowly and deliberately, he wrapped one hand around her throat, the other around her waist, using just enough force to hold her still, but not enough to cause any real pain. His strength was terrifying, even more so because she knew he was struggling to hold his rage in check. Dean ducked his head down to bring his lips against her ear. Very calmly, he murmured, "Not one more freaking word from you or I swear to God, I'll finish you."

Emma felt the adrenalin drain from her body. Her legs started shaking and if Dean hadn't been holding her so tightly, she'd have dropped. Staying in the shadow of the diners' porch, Dean watched Sam bring the stolen car over. As he started to release his grip, he felt Emma tense, ready to make another break for freedom. His voice was still dangerously soft as his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. "You just settle down," he said with quiet deliberation, as he led her back to Sam's car. Aware that the people in the diner could now see them, he put a careful hand on the top of her head, then gently pushed her down into the rear of the car before taking the cuffs from Sam and securing her hands to the passenger headrest.

Sam and Emma watched him stride over to the Impala. He moved around his car, giving her a good looking over before getting in and following Sam. "Emma," sighed Sam. "If you ignore everything else I tell you, just listen to this. Don't ever mess with Dean's car because even I couldn't protect you."

"That's truly pathetic. He does know it's just an old, kind of ugly car, right? Drives like a tank. I wouldn't be seen dead in a heap of crap like that."

"Say that to Dean and you just might," sighed Sam. "You had an out just now. Why didn't you phone for help?"

"Like Dean said, I didn't have time."

"Who's looking for you Emma? What are you running from?"

"None of your business."

"So what brought you to Mount Angel?" persisted Sam

"Job opportunities are limited this close to the end of the semester. It's a nice little town and I love my kid's. It was that or Toad Suck, Arkansas."

"You made that up!" grinned Sam.

"No, it's a place. I hear it's all right really."

"So you left San Francisco in a hurry."

Emma ignored him. She was looking at the headrest and working out how to remove it.

"You're not planning on letting us help you are you?"

"Well duh! What do you think? Stick around with a couple of deluded psychos or rabbit to safety. However will I choose?"

They stopped in a deserted looking industrial area and abandoned their second car. The boys' agreed that they had to move on despite their exhaustion. Emma had drawn too much attention to herself. Dean still refused to let Sam drive. Twice over the next hour Sam caught Dean's eye's drooping. When the car strayed over onto the wrong side of the road Sam yelled out a warning and grabbed at the wheel. Dean was furious. "Hey! No need for hands on, I was on it!"

"Out of it more like. Dean pull over man. Come on!"

Dean refused to hand his car over to his equally exhausted brother and a shouting match followed.

"Ooh…catfight! Can I watch?" grinned a delighted Emma.

Both boys turned in their seats and yelled, "Shut up!" Dean added, "Just one more word out of you and swear to God, I'll tie your ass back up and you can spend the rest of the journey face down on the freakin' floor."

"Been there, done that and I have to tell you Dean, you need to think about cleaning this heap of crap up a little."

Dean ground his teeth. Nobody talked about the Impala like that. He didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. Emma tried again. "Which one of you lost your _special interest_ magazine? It's down there too if you need it." They continued to ignore her, but Emma grinned as she watched the back of Sam's neck turning brick red. She ducked down and pretended to search under the drivers seat. "Oh Dean! I've found your panties. At least I think they're yours. Can't see sweet Sammy in red and black."

"Can I shoot her yet Sam? Can I.?"

"Not while you're driving Dude. Just pull over when you see a good spot."

Emma had a plan. If she could be as obnoxious as possible, whilst at the same time avoiding a bullet in the back of the head, they might just cut their losses and dump her. Not the best plan, but it passed the time whilst she came up with something better. She rambled on, pouring scorn on their belief in the supernatural, their lifestyle, the car and finally Sam's need for a haircut. To his credit, Dean swallowed every insult and managed to appear outwardly indifferent.

"Oh God I'm so bored! I'm on a road trip with dumb and dumber. This is what my life has been reduced to."

Sam grabbed the first tape he could reach and rammed it in the player, before cranking up the volume in an attempt to drown her out. Dean grinned and started to relax a little as the sound of 'Back in Black' by ACDC filled the car. His relief was short lived. She started to sing along with the lyrics. As the song progressed, she managed to hit every single note just off key or outright flat. She also substituted random words. Sam had to admire her talent. She was obviously very familiar with the song and her deliberate muck-up was truly masterful. He snapped the music off quickly before Dean had a stroke. Emma wasn't going to be silenced. Using her feet to tap out the rhythm on the back of their seats, she started on Ted Nugent's 'Stranglehold.'

"That's it! Enough's enough. You're coming on a hunt."

"I don't do blood sports."

"This one will be bloodless sweetheart, unless you do us all a favour and get yourself starched. Sam!" he snapped. "What have we got that's still outstanding?"

"We got the time for this man?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"It's this or I take her into the woods and put a bullet to her right now!"

Sam sighed and started tapping away on his laptop. After a few minutes he said, "Not that much. Still heading towards Bobby, there's a salt and burn in Hays that's been waiting a while, but he's not that active. We might have to hang about for a spell."

"Hell no Sam!" shuddered Dean as he looked at Emma in his rear view mirror. "What else have you got?"

"Jeff Roberts has been tracking some vampires. He's wiped out most of the nest and thinks there are no more than two left. Police are reporting a suspicious death due to extreme blood loss in Colby."

"Sounds like our thing. Won't Reynolds be pissed off if we jump in?"

"No. I heard he's been nabbed by the Fed's. Gone to super max for multiple counts of decapitation."

"God!" huffed Emma from the back. "You boys know the nicest people."

"Vampires on her first trip out? I don't know Dude. It's a little harsh."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," snarled Dean. "I think our girl here has earned something a bit special, don't you?"

"Ooooh, vampires. For real? Can I be Buffy? Can I?"

Both men ignored her as she jumped about and yanked on the back of their seats. Emma slumped back and folded her arms, pretending to sulk. "I bet Dean always has to be Buffy doesn't he?"

Dean started bickering with Emma again five miles outside of Burlington, Colorado, on the seemingly endless Interstate 70. He realised that he was just too tired to keep driving. They hadn't had a decent nights sleep since before they picked the girl up. He pulled into the first motel with a vacancy sign. Even by Winchester standards it was a dive. Inevitably, Emma launched into another tirade as Dean returned with the key.

"Emma," barked Sam. "I've had enough. You too Dean…I can't do this any more. Just move."

Emma looked towards Sam with wary expression. Sam was the voice of reason. The one who protected her from Dean. He wasn't allowed to get mad with her. "Emma! Do it!" he snarled. "Don't make me move you."

"Lighten up Rapunzel! God! Keep your hair on!" she muttered as she stalked off.

Dean grinned after her and turned to look at Sam. Sam just glared at him, daring him to say another word. Dean rolled his eyes, then grabbed a couple of bags and followed Emma into the room. Sam leaned back against the car for a moment and took a deep breath. He wasn't joking when he said he couldn't take any more. This situation had to be resolved before one of them actually killed the other.

When he felt ready, he moved reluctantly towards the motel room. Even before he reached the door he could hear the start of the next battle.

"No way I'm sleeping on the sofa. I get one bed. Stretch will never fit, so he gets the other. It's your turn Winchester, so suck it up! I know. Why don't you go sleep with your car? Go on, you know you want to!

As Sam walked in Emma was already lying across the bed, her tiny frame trying to take up as much space as possible. Dean always slept in the bed nearest the door. It was just another one of those protective things he did that exasperated his brother.

"Not gonna happen," snapped Dean as he dumped his bag down beside her. Emma booted his stuff across the room. With a roar Dean lunged at her, only to be intercepted by Sam.

"Dean! Take off. Just go find a bar, get hammered, get laid, I don't care. Just go. I've got her tonight."

Dean collected his wallet, weapon and keys and moved to the door.

"Happy hunting Dean," she hissed. "Hope you catch something. Slag!

Sam stared open mouthed at Emma. She had the decency to blush and look away.


	5. Chapter 5

When Emma woke the next morning she lay perfectly still and listened to the sounds in the room. Somebody was in the shower and she prayed it was Dean. She opened her eyes a fraction only to be met with a large pair of feet inches from her face. Raising her head slightly, her eyes travelled up a long, well muscled leg.

'Please, please God, let it be Sam,' she prayed. Emma gingerly raised herself up on one elbow and looked her unwelcome bed mate over. Dean was still fast asleep on his stomach, sprawled out on top of the covers. She sat up and studied him closely, noticing several livid red marks on the side of his face and his neck. Emma wondered who else he'd managed to pick a fight with last night before realising that the marks were lipstick smears. Snorting with disgust she started to slide out of the bed.

Dean opened one eye and gave her a slow, sexy grin. His upstairs brain kicked in and he remembered who she was and why she was in his bed. He scowled at her and swung his legs off the bed.

"Go get some clothes on. We've got a big day planned for you and we're moving out in half an hour."

As Sam came out of the bathroom, Emma grabbed some clean clothes and disappeared. He nodded to Dean. "I spoke to Jeff's girlfriend last night. She went through his log and gave me a location in Colby where we might get a lead on the last of the fangs."

"She say how he's doing?"

"The fact that there have been more murders since he went inside isn't hurting his case. She was hoping we wouldn't salt and burn any corpses we find. If they're discovered, it'll look good for Jeff.

Dean shrugged. "Alright, we'll see what we can do."

Dean pulled the Impala over some distance from the warehouse. After taking a machete and checking that their weapons were loaded, the boys dipped knives into a jar of blood and taped them to their shins.

"What the hell is that?" asked Emma.

"Dead man's blood," explained Sam. "It's like a fast acting toxin for vampires.

"And you just happened to have a jar in your trunk," she shuddered.

"We get it from…"

"No! Too much information. I don't need to know." Emma could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She didn't believe in vampires. What scared her was the fact that she was about to go into an abandoned warehouse with two kidnappers tooled up with knives and a machete.

"This is a bad idea Dean," sighed Sam. "Just take a look at her Dude. At this point even you've got to admit she's an innocent. She doesn't have a clue. She'll just freak and get herself killed."

"Yeah well, now she either gets herself an education or she gets starched. Either way, problem solved."

"What's the matter with you man! She doesn't deserve this."

"Nobody does. Not her, not you and me and certainly not those kids. Things haven't changed Sam and she's not telling us squat! It's still down to her or the kids so unless we can work this out, we might not have a choice It's an acceptable loss and that's just the way it is."

"You're not killing this girl Dean."

"Not if I can help it. I really can't stand the little bitch, but she probably doesn't deserve to die."

"Probably?!"

"The little red headed kid Sammy? You want to see his head hacked off instead?"

"No! No, of course not. It's just …we have to stop this. I can't watch another innocent die. I just can't take it right now. If we can't save her, then what's it all for?

Dean was taken aback by the emotion in Sam's voice. "You're just strung out Dude, so you're losing sight of the big picture. Let's just get this over with. She's way too stubborn and arrogant to listen to anything we have to say. We've got to scare the crap out of her, then we can get her to Bobby's and find a way out of this mess."

As they approached the warehouse Dean told Emma to stay between them. Out of defiance she started moving ahead. He grabbed her arm and tugged her back from the entrance. "I already told you no," he said. "I'll go first."

"Why?" she huffed.

"Because unlike you, I know what I'm doing," he snapped. "And besides..." he added just to goad her, "you're a girl."

"No shit Sherlock and you're a moron! You don't spend too much time with women do you Dean?

"All the time…" he protested.

"Bars and bedrooms don't count," she spat.

"That's quality time," smirked Dean. "Now silence!"

Emma followed Dean into the warehouse while Sam brought up the rear. She caught a sweet sickly odour and became aware of a buzzing, droning sound. Dean turned back to Sam with a grim expression and moved towards the source. Sam moved up and put a hand on Emma's shoulder. He knew what was coming and wished he could spare her the sight.

There were four half naked bodies piled against a wall in the next room. They were strangely wizened and leathery looking. Emma stood rooted to the spot. Her first thought as she looked at Dean's deadpan face was that this is where he brought his victims. She felt the bile rising in her throat and kept swallowing. Emma felt a large warm hand close over hers and squeeze it gently.

"Breathe through your mouth," advised Sam softly.

Dean moved further into the complex while Sam hung back to cover their exit. Emma stood transfixed by the bodies until Dean clicked his fingers at her. When she looked over at him he jerked his head and said, "Stay close. If you wander off now I'm not coming for you. I'll leave you for them."

Emma stumbled after him as he slowly made his was way deeper into the complex. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement.. A tall, well-built man rose to his feet and pointed a handgun towards Dean. Emma launched herself at Dean, landing on his back and pitching him face down into the floor. She felt the rush of the bullet as it barely grazed the skin just above her ear. The loud boom of the weapon seemed to follow seconds later. Dean flung her off and turned to meet their attacker only to see him vanish down a ramp. Sam appeared almost immediately pursued by another older looking man. Dean tossed him his machete and Sam ducked and came up swinging the weapon in a huge ark. The powerful sweep took the vampires head clean off. The decapitated corpse took two or three more steps before dropping to the floor.

As Emma came to her feet, Dean noticed that she was bleeding freely from a head wound. He put a hand on each side of her face and held her head firmly while he quickly checked her scalp. "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

"I... don't know," Emma admitted eyes still darting around the room looking confused. "I don't know. He was just there and I just didn't think."

"No, I don't imagine you did. Don't do it again!" he ordered.

"No honestly Dean, don't mention it – you ungrateful whinging bastard."

"I don't have time for this," he hissed as he strode over the severed head and picked it up by the hair. Returning to Emma he held it inches from her face and yanked open the jaws. She stared in horror at the rows of small pointed teeth and fangs. The blood was still draining out onto the floor in heavy splashes. Emma turned her head and was violently sick. The moment she caught her breath, Dean pulled her upright and dragged her along after Sam in pursuit of the second vampire.

They worked their way down to the lower levels of the complex without any sightings before stopping and listening for any movement. Emma felt her stomach start to heave again and turned away from the boys. She ducked behind a crate only to come face-to-face with their target. Before she could cry out, he pulled his arm back and struck her with all his might. The backhanded blow was hard enough to knock her to the ground as the side of her head exploded with pain. She rolled to the side to avoid another direct hit, but toppled off the ramp and fell down into the loading bay. The impact sent shock waves through her entire body.

"Emma," bellowed Dean. "Just stay the hell down. We'll get to you."

Sam and Dean chased the vampire into the next warehouse before loosing sight of him. Uneasy about leaving Emma unprotected, they called off the search and reluctantly retraced their steps. She had managed to pull herself upright and was leaning against the side wall of the loading bay.

Sam found that he couldn't look her in the eye. "I'll bring the car," he muttered. For once, Dean didn't argue. Instead he took a deep breath, ready to light into her, before noticing her ashen face and shallow breathing.

"You injured?" Emma thought she heard an edge of concern in his voice, but dismissed it as wishful thinking.

"I'm fine!" she snapped.

"Well you look like shit."

"Maybe, but I'll bounce back. You on the other hand…."

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"I said I'm fine. Did you get him?"

"No."

"Well that's just great."

"No worries sweetheart. It's got your scent now so It'll be back to locate your skinny little ass. Let's move. I need to find Sam."

Emma took a couple of tentative steps and stopped as the world started to pitch. Dean rolled his eyes and moved towards her. "We don't have time for this." He ducked down and rammed a shoulder into Emma's midriff. As she folded he grabbed her around the legs and lifted her up and over his back. He winced as he felt all of the air huff out of her lungs. He wrapped an arm tight around her legs to keep her from landing any kicks and hurriedly made his way towards the exit. Emma tried to brace her one good arm against Dean's back to take the pressure off her stomach.

"Dean, please stop, I'm going to hurl!"

"Don't you dare!"

He kept up a steady jog and his shoulder continued to slam into her stomach. Emma lost her grip again and clawed at his back in fury before rearing up in an attempt to overbalance him. She wasn't prepared for the extreme agony that shot through her shoulder and up into her neck. Waves of nausea swept over her as the world receded and a black and grey speckled wall closed in on her. Dean's curses were lost, drowned out by the roaring noise in her ears. He knew she had lost consciousness as soon as she flopped limply down over his shoulder.

Dean paused briefly to shift her into a more secure grip, trying not to knock her about anymore than necessary, he moved on.

Sam was waiting by the Impala holding the door open. He watched Dean slide her off his shoulder, her head and limbs flopping as he strode towards the car. She was still out cold. Sam looked outraged. "Dude, what the hell…what did you…?"

"I didn't touch her Sam," he snapped. "She's hurt, passed out from the pain."

Sam looked her over quickly and noticed the unnatural angle of her left arm. Dean dropped her hurriedly on the back seat and told Sam to get in.

She woke up on the drive back to the motel. Sam turned at the sound of a gasp of pain. "Dean, pull over man."

"Can it wait? We're twenty minutes out."

"No. Won't take a minute."

Dean reluctantly pulled the car off the road and joined Sam as he looked her over. Emma silently watched the boys with glassy, pain filled eyes. Her face had a grey tinge and was beaded with perspiration. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Taking his knife, Dean cut away the sleeves of her jacket and shirt and opened them to the neck. The misshapen shoulder joint was obvious. Sam ran his hands over her collarbones, arms and ribs to rule out any fractures.

"Shit," murmured Dean. "That's gotta smart. Think you can reduce it?"

Sam nodded reluctantly. Dean looked Emma over again and winced. Since he'd managed to tear his rotator cuff hanging off a window ledge, this had been a recurring injury for him. Sam had done this for him more times than he cared to remember. The pain was something else.

"Sam, wait. Let me give her a morphine shot first. Last thing we need is to send her into shock" He rummaged in the first aid kit and dug out a small preloaded syringe.

"This dose is enough to fell you Sasquatch. I'll give her half." Sam nodded as Dean jabbed the needle through her jeans into her thigh.

They waited a couple of minutes before pulling her out of the car. Dean sat on the ground with his back leaning against the Impala. He held Emma firmly on his lap as she giggled and sang ACDC's Back in Black quietly to herself. Her voice was clear and true. Dean smiled at the memory of her deliberately butchering this song just to torture him. He wrapped his hands around her shoulder and pulled back as Sam took a hold of her arm and pulled up and out sharply. Dean cringed at the loud popping sound as the joint snapped back into place. Emma went rigid and gasped, but stayed conscious.

Dean was surprised by her lack of reaction and started to wonder about nerve damage. He remembered a heated argument he'd once had with a nurse who claimed that women could handle pain so much better than men. Emma leaned back and snuggled her head into Dean's neck before peering up at Sam. "I didn't like that Sammy," she slurred. "Let's never, ever do this again, 'kay?"

Dean felt an involuntary stab of admiration. Maybe that nurse had a point he conceded. With Sam's help he eased her up and onto the back seat.

Heading out again he kept checking her in his rear view mirror. He'd noticed swelling and discolouration on the side of her face and didn't want her drifting off again.

"Emma, hey, listen to me now! Stay with me okay? I know you're wiped out, but just try and stay with me for a little while longer. We'll get you checked out and then you can sleep all you need alright?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Emma slowly sliding down and curling up on the rear seat. "Hey!" he rapped out. "Sit yourself up right now." No response. " I mean it Emma, don't make me stop this car and come back there. Sam!" he snapped. "Handle her will you?"

"Christ Dean," his brother chuckled. "Do you have any idea how much like Dad you sound sometimes."

"Bite me Sammy," snarled Dean. "Just reach back there and sort her out."

When they arrived back at the motel, Emma was still feeling no pain and was the first one out of the car. As soon as the door opened, she headed for the nearest bed. Misjudging the distance, she slithered to the floor and curled up on the gritty carpet with a contented sigh.

"Nothing to see here. Keep moving boys."

Dean frowned down at her. "You're so wasted. Come on Sleeping Beauty. Bedtime. ."

"Back off handsome," she snapped. She opened one eye and squinted up at Dean "You know, you're way, way too pretty. It's just not right when you're such a nasty bastard," she rambled. "I'm comfy right here," Emma slurred. "I'm not tired, I'm too wired. Hey!" she giggled. "I rhymed."

Dean rolled his eyes and started to reach for her. "Don't even think about it," she warned. "Don't you dare go all big-brother on me. I've got more of those than I need. Go bother Sam. 'Sides you don't get to tell me when to go to bed you bossy git. I'll..."

Moving swiftly, before Dean could get his hands on her, Sam bent down and pulled her up from the floor. As he held her squirming form upright as gently as he could, Dean moved over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Sam eased her down onto the bed and stepped back. Dean yanked off her boots, carefully removed the rest of her ruined jacket, then sat down on the bed. He looked briefly at the cut on her head before holding two fingers in front of her face. "Emma, how many fingers."

Emma squinted briefly before replying, "Two. I prefer one myself," she smirked as she flipped him the bird. "It's a bolder statement somehow."

Dean shook his head with disgust as he pulled the covers up and tucked them firmly around her. He then leaned over her, with a hand each side of her shoulders; he pressed her down into the bed with the covers and growled, "You do not move from this bed until we say so. You shut your eyes and you shut your mouth. Not another word Emma. Not another sound, or so help me..."

Emma glared up at him, searching for a cutting comeback. Nothing sprang to mind so she gave up trying. She knew she was going to lose this argument for the simple reason than that she was just too tired to care. Despite her protests, she longed to drift off and the bed felt so inviting. "Hey Dean, so if vampire's are real…" she said in a small voice.

"Silence," he barked as he stood up and moved back from the bed.

"Night Dean." she murmured as she drifted off. "Thanks Sam and I'm so sorry for…well everything."

Sam smiled down at her knowing it was the morphine talking. He sat on the edge of her bed and ran his fingers softly through her tangled hair. He then startled Dean by leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest," he said softly.

Sam wasn't usually so hands on with other people and it made Dean uneasy.

_'If we have to kill this girl at some point," _he reasoned,_ "caring about her is going to make it that much harder. __No way I'm gonna make that mistake,'_ he told himself. '_You'd think Sam would have learnt his lesson after Madison.'_

Dean sighed, running a hand over his stubble. He suppressed a wave of frustration as he looked down at her. She was almost asleep, but seeing his expression, her eyes widened with fear. Dean felt an all too familiar stab of guilt followed by anger. He didn't know whether he was mad her, at the situation or even at himself. He knew he wasn't handling this well and it wasn't all down to her bad attitude.

"Get some sleep Kiddo," he said gruffly. "We've got a long way to go yet." He looked at his brother wearily. "I'll take first watch Sam. I'll wake you in a few." When they'd finished salting the windows and door, Dean pulled a chair up against the door and settled down to watch TV.


	6. Chapter 6

When Emma woke the next morning, she was stiff, extremely sore and very hung over from the morphine

When Emma woke the next morning, she was stiff, extremely sore and very hung over from the morphine. Seeing her start to stir, Dean handed her a couple of pills and a bottle of water without saying a word.

When he moved off to rummage in his duffle for clean clothes, Emma ditched the pills, grabbed her bag and ducked past him into the bathroom. She slammed the door in his face and locked it. Dean cursed and seriously considered kicking it in. He was distracted by Sam arriving with coffee and donuts and quickly downed his black coffee, before starting on Emma's cappuccino. Wincing at the sight of froth and chocolate sprinkles, he forced it down and made a determined start on the donuts. Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. Ten minutes and four donuts later, Dean was feeling slightly sick and increasingly less optimistic that she'd leave him any hot water.

When Emma finally emerged, Dean was busy cleaning his vast array of weapons. "All that hardware and you still managed to get your ass handed to you yesterday," she said snidely.

"If we didn't have to worry about rescuing you from yourself at every turn, we'd be done by now," he snapped. Ejecting the clip of the .45 he was working on, he loaded it fully before slapping it back home.

"I seem to remember it was me who rescued you yesterday."

"You ever land on top of me on a hunt again, I'll shoot through you," Dean snarled..

She felt his eyes on her and glanced up. He was looking at her with such loathing and contempt that it felt like a physical blow. His obvious dislike hurt her far more than it should have she realized. _'Why do you even give a toss?'_ she wondered. _'Because he's the most beautiful man you'll probably ever see, idiot!'_ Emma gave herself a mental shake. _'Pretty packaging, so what? He's still a shit!'_

Sam and Dean were reviewing their research and following up on leads that Bobby had phoned through earlier. Emma paced up and down trying to easy her painful shoulder and contain her frustration. She was still spoiling for a fight.

"Dean?" she interrupted.

"Now what?" he groaned.

"I hate you," she announced childishly.

"What are you, ten years old? That bang on the head catching up with you?"

"No really. I really, really hate you."

"Okay, good to know. Now you just hold that thought and fester quietly for a spell. The grownups are talking here."

"Thought you said guns wouldn't work on spooks," needled Emma.

Dean took a deep calming breath. "It'll work on you though won't it?"

"Oh, just stop threatening me you sad bastard. If you had the stones you'd have done it already."

"Listen up you baby-killing bitch! Every minute of every hour since I met you, I've wanted to put a bullet to you. You're a stuck-up, arrogant, frigid, self-centred little shrew. You're nothing to us. Just collateral damage waiting to happen. An acceptable loss."

Emma flinched and dropped her head, but Dean was too furious rein it in and just ploughed on. "More than anything, I wish whatever it is your running from would just come for you already. I want this over so we can be rid of you." Dean watched the color drain from her face and realized he'd gone too far. '_Well tough shit!_' he justified his words to himself. "Ah, no. You're not gonna cry on me now are you?" he said mockingly. "That's fighting dirty and you know it's not right."

Emma tried to swallow as her throat ached and tears formed behind her closed eyelids. No way on earth was this bastard going to make her cry. She walked slowly to the door opened it quietly.

"Where the hell do you think you're going. Get back here!" growled Dean. Emma didn't respond. She slipped through and closed the door gently before taking off across the car park as fast as her legs would carry her. She didn't know where she was heading. She just had to put as much distance as possible between herself and Dean.

"Shit, Dean, was that really necessary?" Sam hissed. "What the hell was that?" He tossed Dean the weapon he'd been cleaning before hurrying after Emma.

Sam moved up behind her and catching her up in a bear hug, he pinned her arms to her sides. She bucked a couple of times, but he just increased the force until her felt her slump in defeat. He relaxed his grip slightly, but stayed tense as he waited for her to try to fight him off. He wasn't surprised when she started to cry softly, but it didn't lessen his discomfort. He started to look around for Dean, before remembering with a wry smile that Dean was not only the cause of her tears, but less than useless in these situations anyway. Sam loosened his grip further and turned her around to face him. He ran his hand gently over her hair and rocked her very slowly as her sobbing became more intense.

Emma was way beyond embarrassed as she buried her face against his shoulder. Sam rested his chin on the top of her head and let her cry herself out. As she fought hard to regain control he murmured, "You know he doesn't really think that don't you? He's probably in there kicking his own ass all around the room right now."

"Yes he does Sam." She laughed softly. "I don't think I've ever been really hated before. It's a horrible feeling and do you know what the worst thing about it is? It's for something I haven't even done. It's like that movie, Minority Report."

She pulled back and looked up into Sam's sad, kind eyes. "It'll never, ever happen. You know I'd rather die than harm one of the kids don't you?"

"I know you'd never want that. Dean does too. But possession isn't something you can control," he explained gently. "When it happens it's like you're watching yourself saying and doing terrible things and there's nothing you can do. It can happen to anyone Emma. Let me tell you something. A while back I was possessed by a demon called Meg. I watched myself shoot Dean."

"Seriously?" said a wide-eyed Emma. "You know," she giggled. "Maybe that's not the best example Sam. You sure you were possessed and not just goaded beyond endurance?"

Sam grinned back. "Come on lets head back." He stopped and cupped her chin with one very large hand. "Look at me," he ordered. "I won't let this happen Emma. Do you trust me?"

"Truthfully? I'm not sure, but I do realize that maybe you're not totally barking after all."

"Well that's progress from 'clearly psychotic spineless freak,'" he smiled.

"I never called you clearly psychotic. That was Dean and the jury's still out on that one," Emma huffed.

By the time they walked back into the room Dean had moved onto his knife collection. He looked up briefly and glared at Emma. "You run off like that again, so help me I'll…"

"D'you want a coffee Sam?" she interrupted turning her back ostentatiously on Dean.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to you, Emma!" he snarled.

"I know you are, pretty boy, and I'm ignoring you because you're an ignorant, arrogant, foul-mouthed little shit."

Sam groaned and bracing himself for the next round, edged closer to Dean, ready to tackle him. As Emma moved towards the coffee maker, Dean blocked her path. She tried to barge him out of the way, but he held his ground. He wasn't done with her yet.

"Tell me something Dean. If I am this girl Sam saw, will you kill me?" He shot her a steely-eyed look that suggested he wouldn't hesitate.

"Emma," intervened Sam. "It's not going to come to that."

"Sam's bigger than you, right?" Dean looked blankly back at her. "Well obviously," she continued, "but is he stronger too?"

"I can still take Sammy down, always could," huffed Dean indignantly.

"Well okay maybe, but what if there was no way. What if you were so physically outclassed, he could just pick you up and move you anywhere he wanted you to be. You'd have absolutely no control, no power, no voice, no rights."

"Never happen," dismissed Dean. He wondered where she was going with this crap.

"It's happening to me Dean," she explained patiently. "Right now and it's the most frightening, infuriating and unfair thing you can imagine. I started over and I had a life I was beginning to enjoy. Next thing I know, I'm on death row and you're my judge and executioner."

A wave of unease swept over Dean as he felt his anger subsiding. He moved away from her and sat back down at the table. He knew she was messing with his head, but the truth was she had a point.

"I haven't done anything Dean, she persisted. "You can't do this to me."

"What about the kids? If you cared about them at all you'd be begging me to end you or better still, do it yourself. I don't want your blood on me and Sam. You think we want this? How the hell do you think we feel?" he demanded.

"You don't," she retorted. "You don't genuinely feel anything at all. Unless it's for the sweet, saintly Sam of course.

Emma started pacing around the room. "Just listen to yourself. You're mad at me because I won't go out into the parking lot and shoot myself, all because your brother had a bad dream. You've both totally lost it. You've spent your whole life wading around in this nasty shit and now you're too far gone from humanity to function on any normal level," she ranted. "It's really not your fault, it's just what's left of you."

Dean tried to keep his face impassive, but Sam could see her words were hitting their mark. He edged closer to the pair of them, ready to intervene. "Emma," he said quietly, "that's enough."

Emma moved in front of Dean and carried on trying to goad him. Dean forced himself not to respond until, desperate for any sort of reaction, she landed a stinging slap on his cheek. His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist with frightening power. "That hurt," he growled through gritted teeth. "Do that again and I'll snap it off!"

Emma was too enraged to stop now. She wrenched her hand free and spun away. "You're just a machine," she spat. "There's no pity, no tenderness, no… when you're not fighting and killing, then you're randomly screwing any slag that sniffs around you. It turns you on doesn't it, the killing …you, you…. you're a psychotic man-whore…"

Dean tipped his head to one side and rocking back on his chair, pretended to observe her with casual interest. "You know, red-faced shrew…not a good look for you."

She was beyond reason, but was still able to realize that she'd lost control along with the high ground. She looked hard at Dean and took in his contemptuous, vaguely amused expression. For Emma, that was the very last straw. She launched herself across the table and clipped him hard on the chin. Caught completely by surprise, Dean just didn't see it coming. He was already off balance and he sprawled over onto his back as his chair hit the floor. With a bellow of rage he leapt to his feet, kicked the chair out of the way and started towards her. Dean moved so fast there was nothing Sam could do to stop him. Digging his hands under her armpits, he lifted her clear off the table and shoved her none too gently against the door. His hand shot up just in time to cup the back of her head, preventing it from smacking into the hardwood panels. He grabbed hold of a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up at him. He dropped his hand immediately, but he held her there, with an arm across her chest and his hip pressing against her body, her feet barely touching the floor.

Dean struggled to control his rage by taking slow, deep breaths. At that moment it didn't matter that she was a girl, a good deal smaller and technically in the right, he just longed to haul off and smack her one. He knew he wasn't going to hit a woman, well not a human woman, well not a human women that wasn't Emma…He caught sight of Sam inching forwards, and waved him off with an impatient slash of his hand.

Sam was horrified. He'd never seen Dean handle a girl this roughly before. He'd backhanded Meg of course, but it was the demon possessing her that he was lashing out at. Sam was genuinely concerned that Dean might actually harm her.

"Dean, her shoulder," Sam murmured quietly. "Come on Dude. Lets just step back a minute."

Dean eased off slightly and lowered her to the floor. He didn't break eye contact with Emma. She continued to stare him down defiantly, but he could feel the tremors of fear going through her body and felt ashamed. What was he doing? Nobody else made him over-react as much as this girl. He wanted to protect her and strangle her in equal measure. Emma put both hands on his chest and tried to push him away. Her eyes were glittering with rage. Dean held his ground, but didn't make any move to take a hold of her again.

"Dean," murmured a very relieved Sam. "Step outside, do it now."

Dean took a step back, then turned and strode over to his bed. He picked up his weapon and shoved it in his waistband. Without looking back at her, he stalked out the door. Sam and Emma didn't move until they heard the roar of the Impala as it peeled out of the car park. Emma leaned back against the bathroom door and slid slowly to the floor. Her head was turned to the side, her fall of hair covering her face.

"Look it's gonna be OK," Sam tried to reassure her. "We'll figure something out."

"No, you don't get it. Nothing will ever be all right, not for me." To her horror she started to cry again. Her body shook with racking, soundless sobs.

"Hey, no wait, shhh, don't cry," pleaded Sam. "Please don't do this."

"Sam, just listen. You have to understand. I'm too tired and I just want it to end."

Sam reached down and gripping her under the elbows, pulled her up and gathered her into his arms. He held her tight against him and stroked her hair as she sobbed_. 'My shirt hasn't even dried out from the last bout,_' he thought to himself. "Emma, please," he muttered. "You need to rest. Just a couple of hours."

She didn't respond. Not even when Sam wrapped an arm around her and led her over to Dean's bed. He threw back the covers, removed the knife from under the pillow and pushed her gently down onto the bed. He tucked the covers over her and smoothed the hair back from her face. "Your ability to push Dean to the very edge of endurance is pretty impressive."

"I know," deadpanned Emma. "It's an art form and I'm really very proud."

"Emma, you can't hit Dean and expect him to keep letting you get away with it."

"Oh God, don't!" groaned Emma. "I still don't know how that happened. One minute he was sitting there smirking at me, and the next second he was flat on his back."

"Seriously, don't do that again, ever. Now sleep," he said quietly. "We'll get this sorted. Dean'll be back and we'll get out of here tonight."

"Why? Going where? Please Sam, I'm done. Dean's right. I haven't got the balls to kill myself. Do it for me while I'm asleep."

"What? No Emma, listen! If you can tell us what's really going on, we can fix this. There has to be something…."

"I've had enough. Dean knows and he just wants the OK from you. Please Sam, this is cruel."

"You can't ask this of me, it's not going to happen. I'm sorry….not ever again."

"Not _what_ ever again?" she snapped. "Listen Sam. If I'm still here when I wake up, I'm going to be seriously pissed off."

Dean returned a couple of hours later. He'd been shopping and had gone to a pharmacy for muscle relaxants and painkillers for Emma. He'd also bought her a couple of tops to replace the shirt he'd had to cut off her. He pulled the tags off and shoved them in her bag.

Sam smiled at the peace offering. "Listen Dean. The two of you..."

"Don't Sam," Dean growled. "Just...not now."

"Dean, you can't keep doing this to her. She thinks you're gonna kill her. You have to lighten up Dude."

"Lighten up? Are you kidding me man? You know what we're facing here, what she's capable of."

"You're treating her like an out of control teenager. Emma's a grown woman. We need to sit her down and talk this through."

"I know that Captain Obvious, but that's not the point. From the moment I took her from her home, she became my responsibility. Well, yours and mine. Things haven't changed Sam. It's still down to her or the kids, so unless we can work this out…"

"You're not killing her Dean."

"Like I said before, not unless she turns. Sam we have to see this through. You know I'll fight for her. I really can't stand her Sammy and I've never pretended otherwise, but I'll do everything I can to save her. That hasn't changed either."

"I don't get it Dean. What is it about her... why do you hate her so much? You know she's kinda like you in some ways."

"What? No she's not. There's nothing about her...Like what?

"She's stubborn, feisty, won't ever admit she's wrong. She's secretive, has terrible taste in music and..." he smirked, "she's short."

Dean scowled at his brother before moving over and looking down at her. While she was sleeping, she had opened up the small cut on her scalp. She'd obviously rubbed at it and smeared the blood over the side of her face. He went to the bathroom and got some antiseptic and a washcloth. When he returned he sat gingerly on the side of her bed. She opened her eyes and regarded him with genuine fear. Dean felt an all too familiar stab of remorse. It didn't sit well with him that this girl was so frightened of him. Women liked him, and he liked them. A little too much maybe but… He didn't know where to start to make this right. He handed her the washcloth and pointed to the side of her head. "You've got..."

"I'm sorry, Dean," interrupted Emma. "I'm so sorry. I was trying to hurt you back. I don't know how this all got so out of control. You've been straight and honest and I know you're trying to fix this, this…whatever this is."

She reached out and put her hand on his forearm for a fraction of a second, before snatching it back. "I'm just so very tired and scared and I took it out on you. But please, I can't do this any more. Please."

Dean knew what she was asking and realized he wasn't ready to take that step. "Look Emma, this isn't fair and it isn't right and I wish to hell we could drive away and leave you in peace."

He took the cloth from her hand and pushing her hair back, very gently cleaned the cut above her ear. When he finished, he cleaned the blood off the rest of her face and smiled reassuringly. "We'll find a way to get this sorted Emma, but you've got to trust us to protect you until we can work this out." He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her other ear, before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

The unexpectedly kind and compassionate exchange completely threw her off. "Who are you and what have you done with that Winchester bastard?"

Dean stopped short and swung around to face her, eyes flashing and expression hard and uncompromising...

_'Shit,'_ thought Emma. _'I've done it again.'_ "Dean, I..."

In an instant his face relaxed and a low rumble of laughter burst out. It was the first genuine laugh she'd heard from him. No hint of bitterness or cynicism. Emma joined in for a moment before groaning and clutching at her shoulder. Still smiling, Dean dug into the bag from the pharmacy and passed her a handful of pills and a bottle of water. Emma downed them without question.

"Stay in bed and go easy on that arm Emma. It won't be stable for a spell and you don't want another dose of Dr. Sammy over there. "


	7. Chapter 7

Emma became aware of an uncomfortable pressure across her throat. She tried to raise her hands to push the covers down before realising that they were tied down. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on her surroundings. With a lurch Emma realised that she was no longer in the motel room.

Banks of flickering candles surrounded her and beyond that she could see shadowy figures. Three people approached her through the crowd. Two were carrying small bowls and the third, a man dressed all in white, carried a short sword. He seemed to be leading some sort of chant. Emma could tell that the language was Latin, but was unable to understand a word. He stopped abruptly and stood in front of her. Emma found herself transfixed by a pair of icy blue eyes. They seemed so familiar but she couldn't place the man. Without changing his expression, he raised his sword and jabbed at her body several times. None of the wounds were very deep, but Emma started to bleed freely from the cuts to her torso. She jerked against her bonds and rolling her head back, couldn't hold back an agonised scream. He started talking to her but his voice seemed to be coming from a great distance.

"Hey! Shhh. You're all right. I've got you. Come on now. It's not real. Emma!"

Emma felt drawn to the quiet, gentle voice and forced her eyes open. Sam was leaning over her looking concerned. Dean was peering over his shoulder.

"What the hell was that Emma?" demanded Dean. "What did you see?"

"Nothing, it's fine. Go away. Just a dream."

"What again?" sighed Dean. "This has to stop coz you and Sammy are clearly not getting enough beauty sleep."

Sam rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of Emma's bed. "So, these dreams. Can you tell me about them?"

"Bog off Dr Freud!"

"It might be important Emma," he tried to reason with her. "We're trying to help you here."

"Oh, you've helped me more than enough already. Don't misunderstand. I'm grateful for the drugging and the abduction and everything, but, you know, you could have just tried explaining things to me."

"We did!" exclaimed Dean.

"No you didn't! You said, '_Hi, we're Dean and Sam and you don't know this yet but you're a mass murderer of small children. Now hold still while I choke you into unconsciousness and cart you off against your will'_."

"Point taken," allowed Sam. "But if we had laid it all out and explained the options what would you have said?"

"Go screw yourself you dangerous psycho."

"Uh huh. That's kinda why we went with Plan B."

Emma swung her legs off the bed and started to rise. Sam pushed her down very gently and sat facing her on the opposite bed. Dean moved over to join them and sat alongside Sam, propping one booted foot on her bed, effectively cutting off her escape route.

"Something's happened hasn't it? What else aren't you telling me?" Emma looked from one to the other with a growing sense of unease. "Oh, just spit it out. What did future me do now? I'm in more trouble, right?"

Dean glanced at his brother who gave him a barely perceivable shake of the head. The news from Bobby had been anything but encouraging. It was starting to look as if Emma had become involved, possibly without her knowledge, with a very powerful sect who dabbled in the blackest of the black arts. They were waiting for Bobby to get back to them before they laid it all out for her.

"We already told you what's happening. Far as we know nothings changed."

"You're lying Dean. I can always tell when you're lying. Your lips move."

"Seems that there's a lot of that going around at the moment. We want to know what you're hiding. You'll sit right there until we get some answers. So tell me Emma, why d'you leave San Francisco at the double? What else is going on that you haven't you told us?"

"Oh loads of stuff," she replied calmly, "and I'm not going to either. Doesn't concern you."

Dean hissed out a breath in frustration. He reached out and cupping her chin, turned her face towards him. Emma found that she couldn't look away. His undoubtedly beautiful eyes were weary, bleak and far too old for a man his age. "How can it not concern us Emma? This is what we do day in, day out. We save people, hunt evil…."

"Very noble," smirked Emma. There's also the fringe benefits like bonking random women and never having to face them again, always having an excuse to drink yourself unconscious and living by credit card fraud…"

Dean threw his hands up in frustration and sat back.

"Tell me!" Sam ordered, giving her an urgent shake. "We've got to know everything or we don't know where to begin to help you. You're trying to outrun it, I get that, I do. But you have to trust someone eventually Emma."

"I don't have to trust anyone from God on down. I used to think He'd watch out for me, you know, keep me safe if I was good." She shook her head ruefully. "Was I ever that naive?"

Dean frowned down at her and shook his head. "You are gonna tell me eventually Emma. There's a limit to my patience and you're getting danger close to it."

"I know," said Emma. "I think you've done pretty well so far, but let's not push it."

"You're still horrific," said Dean as he rubbed his hands over his face in weary frustration.

"I know that too," she acknowledged. "This truce is temporary. You do see that, right? You have to let me go because I'm never going to stop fighting you."

"I don't doubt it," nodded Dean. "But listen up Emma, if you even think about trying to hit me again…I wasn't gonna bring it up just yet, but understand this, three times in a couple of days exceeds your lifetime limit. Do you understand?"

Emma looked sheepish and said, "It's not something usually I do.

Seeing Dean's sceptical expression she continued, "No, honestly. I never even hit my brothers. Dad said it was worse than cowardly because they wouldn't hit me back." She looked over at him and smiled weakly. "It's just you…you make me so mad I can't even think straight."

Sam relaxed slightly and felt some of the tension seep out of his body. He wondered how long the pair of them could keep this truce going. "You have brothers?" he said in surprise. "Where are they now?" Emma didn't respond.

"Emma?" Sam prompted.

Emma was giving herself a verbal kicking. _"What's the matter with you? You know you can't let your guard down. Sam and Dean are sharp and you can't afford to make mistakes. D'you want to lose what's left of your family?" _She got up and made her way to the bathroom without a word and locked the door.

Dean just rolled his eyes. There weren't any windows in this bathroom so he left her in peace. "Can you imagine Emma for a sister?" he shuddered. "Her brothers probably ran away. She hits hard for a little girl!" Dean said indignantly. "Right, moving on. We have to go finish this last vampire before we leave. It's got our scent and it's gonna keep coming. It's probably pulled back to the nest."

"Listen Desn. Do we have to bring her this time? She knows what's out there now, so point made..."

"It's not a solo job Sammy. What's the chances of her still being here when we get back?"

"Slim to none. We could just wait for Bobby."

"It's just one fang Dude. We can protect her."

Following the coordinates given to them by Jeff's girlfriend, they left the car and hiked the last three miles cross-country to the cave entrance. Emma wasn't feeling too good. She was exhausted and her shoulder was throbbing in time to her headache. She fixed her eyes on a spot in the middle of Dean's back and concentrated on keeping her legs moving.

Sam glanced back and seeing her glazed eyes and waxy looking skin, paused and waited for her to catch up. "You look as if you could use some help."

"I'm good."

"Don't be pig-headed," snapped Dean. "If you need help, ask!"

Emma just shook her head briefly and plodded on. No way was she giving them the satisfaction! Dean rolled his eyes at Sam and moved on ahead again. A couple of minutes later he heard a muffled thud behind him and looked back. Emma was lying in a heap on the ground. She immediately rolled onto her knees and tried to get herself up. Dean cursed and moving back to her, called to Sam to wait a moment.

"See, this right here is what I'm talking about. You're just gonna slow us down," he snarled. He pulled her to her feet again and hooked her good arm around his neck. Emma stiffened for a moment before realizing that she didn't have enough strength left to push him away. Dean set off again, moving at a steady pace. Walking up the steep, rocky incline was exhausting for all of them and they were relieved when they crested the ridge and saw their target location a hundred yards ahead. They climbed into a ditch and lay watching the tunnel entrances. Emma promptly curled up and went to sleep like a small child. Dean smiled down at her and shrugging out of his leather jacket, covered her over.

She'd only been asleep for what seemed like seconds when she was awoken by a gentle shake.

"What? Are we…" She managed to mumble before Sam reached over and slapped a hand over her mouth. Dean leaned towards her and whispered, "All right now, listen carefully. I'm going to take a closer look. Sam'll be with you so just stay tight, keep your mouth shut and do exactly what he tells you. Got it?"

Emma nodded mutely and watched as he moved away and started arming himself from the duffle. She shrugged off Dean's coat and crawled down the ditch towards him, then reached her hand out and touched the handle of one of his knives. He looked down at her briefly and gave her a quick nod. She took the knife and moved quickly out of his way again.

As Dean headed off, Sam moved towards Emma. "Why don't you get your head down while you can. I'll watch over you."

Emma didn't mean to drift off again but she woke with a start. She felt rather than saw the vampire land in the ditch. She turned and watched with horror as he brought the butt of his rifle cracking down on Sam's head. Curled up under Dean's jacket, Emma lay frozen with fear as he rolled the unconscious hunter over and started to strip him of weapons. The vampire finished his looting and knelt over him. He fingered the tattoo on Sam's chest and pulled out a vicious looking curved knife. Emma realized with a sickening jolt that he was going to start skinning Sam right there and then. She gripped her knife tighter and crept soundlessly towards them. Emma's pounding heart alerted the vampire to her presence. He let her get closer before reaching down and grabbing a handful of hair. Emma launched herself up from the ground with the knife grasped in both hands and pointing upwards. The knife slid in with ease. They both froze for a few seconds with shock.

Emma's knife had entered just below the man's ribcage and travelled up into his chest. He dropped his weapon and grabbed her throat as he fell backwards across Sam, bringing her with him. With a terrible strength he rolled on top of her trapping her between himself and Sam.

The realization that a knife through the heart wasn't going to slow a vampire down was brought home when he grinned widely, exposing rows of small pointed teeth. She grabbed hold of his short matted hair to try to stop him making contact with her neck. Emma craned back to see if Sam was showing any sign of life. His machete was still held loosely in his hand. The vampire dipped his head and ran his tongue from the nape of her neck to the point of her chin. Her stomach lurched and she made a grab for the weapon, but realized that she was too close to get a good swing. Instead, she drove it with all her might into the side of the vampire's neck. The blade was so honed it seemed to glide through muscle and sinew. To her horror Emma felt ice-cold blood gushing out and soaking into her clothes as his scream rang in her ears. The vampire started to claw at her arms but she closed her eyes and kept sawing away at his neck until she heard a dull thud and his body relaxed into death.

She wasn't able to breathe as his huge bulk crushed down on her. Slick with blood, she slid out from under him and reached down to check that Sam was still breathing. Emma tried without success to pull him free. The metallic stench from the dead vampire was making her gag. She grabbed the corpse by the ankles and dragged him inch by inch further down the ditch into the scrub. She looked at the knife still embedded in his chest and knew she'd have to get it out. Dean did seem inordinately fond of his weapons. She closed her eyes and pulled as hard as she could. The knife slid out and still clutching it, she hurried back to Sam.

She was very relieved to find he was snoring gently, but shocked by the amount of blood. She pulled his shirt open but couldn't find the source. After a moment she realized that he was as covered in dead vampire blood as she was. She checked his airway was clear and with some difficulty, rolled him over on his front. She then picked up the knife and sat down beside him to wait for Dean to return.

Dean dropped silently back into the ditch. _'Sam must be losing his edge,'_ he thought grimly. '_Time was I wouldn't have got within half a mile without his knowing.'_ Emma hadn't moved. She was still sitting beside Sam with the knife in her hand, staring into space. Dean stopped short and stared at the small river of blood under his brother and the bloody knife in Emma's hand.

With a roar, Dean leapt towards them. "What the hell have you done? So help me bitch, if you've hurt him, I'll freakin' kill you."

He tried to take the knife from her. Emma wanted to explain, but she couldn't get the words to form. She was terrified that Dean might turn the knife on her and she clung onto it with both hands. Dean, equally afraid that one of them was going to get stabbed, hit her a stinging slap across the face with the flat of his hand, yanked the knife away from her, then bundled her up out of the ditch away from the rest of the weapons.

He turned Sam over, pulled up his shirt, but couldn't find where all the blood was coming from. He found a small laceration on his scalp, which was still bleeding freely, but didn't account for the amount of blood. Sam's breathing seemed to be normal. Dean checked him for any bite or puncture wounds, then opened his mouth and looked for any traces of blood. Finding nothing, he let out a shuddering sigh of relief. If Sam had been turned, Dean knew he would never have the strength to finish him off.

"Aw shit!' exclaimed Dean as he climbed up out of the ditch. He hurried over to where Emma was sitting with her arms tightly wrapped around her legs. She was rocking slowly.

"Emma," he said gently. "I need to know where you're hurt. Will you let me take a look at you?" Emma didn't respond. He touched her reddened cheekbone with regret. She kept rocking and looking off into the distance.

He took hold of her arms, gently pulled them away from her body and checked her over. She didn't have any obvious injures either

'What the hell?" said Dean, as he hurriedly straightened her clothes. "It's not you either. Where's the blood coming from? Talk to me Emma."

Still getting no response from her, Dean dropped back down into the ditch, searched around and picking up a blood trail, followed it into the scrub. He came across the head first. The mouth was still open, displaying rows of fangs. Using the toe of his boot, Dean kicked it further into the scrub and then knelt down to check out the rest of the body. The neck was a mess. _'If this is Emma's handy work,'_ sighed Dean, _'she'll need to work on her technique.' _

Sam groaned as he started to wake. He sat up slowly, felt his head and looked around for Dean. "What the hell happened?" he groaned. "I get hit?"

"I'm hoping you can tell me Sammy," said Dean as he made his way back to his brother. "You kill that vampire?"

"Vampire? What? Where?" groaned a bewildered Sam. "Where's the girl? She take off?"

"No. She's right here still."

Sam pulled himself up onto his knees and noticed all the blood. "Dean, what's going on? Is she hurt?"

"She's fine. If you didn't kill that fang, then she must have. Dude, she sawed it's head clean off!" He looked towards Emma and suppressed an involuntary shudder. "Bit hard core for a school teacher isn't it? I'm telling you man, she's not right."

"She just saved my ass Dean. If there's any way that she can do something right in your eyes, you just let me know!"

Dean rolled his eyes and after retrieving his jacket, helped Sam to his feet and up out of the ditch. They made their way over to Emma and Dean went down on one knee in front of her. "Hey, Emma. Can you hear me?"

She looked up at him placidly and nodded.

"We're done here. Can you stand up for me?" He put his hands under her elbows and gently pulled her to her feet. They made their way back to where they had left the Impala. Dean took the blanket and laid it over the back seat. Eyeing the filthy, bloodstained duo with disgust, he waved them into the back seat. "Sit on that blanket and don't touch anything," he ordered.

When they got back to the motel, Dean opened the car door and took hold of one of Emma's grimy, blood stained hands. "Emma? Can you hear me? Will you come with me?" Emma looked at him blankly, then trailed along after him

"I think you broke her Sammy!" he murmured. His brother, already feeling guilty enough, just frowned and followed them into the motel.

Dean frogmarched the pair into the bathroom. Pushing them both under the shower fully clothed he turned on the water and told them to stay there until the water ran clear. He left to find them a set of clean clothes each.

After washing the gore out of Emma's hair, Sam got out of the shower and stripped to his boxers. He dumped his clothes in the sink and left her to finish washing and get dressed in private. Emma came out of the bathroom half an hour later with both of their clothes bundled up. Sam took them from her and left the room to put them through the motel washer. Emma sat on a bed and fidgeted under Dean's steady gaze.

"Talk to me Emma."

"I killed someone."

"That thing would've killed Sam if you hadn't. Listen sweetheart, it was already long dead and you just put it out of its misery."

"Can they ever be rescued? The person inside?"

"No, it's never been done."

"What about their souls? What happens to them when it's not their fault?"

Dean looked anxiously towards to door_. 'Sammy get back here,'_ he pleaded silently. "Tell you what Emma. When this is done, I'll hook you up with someone who'll talk theology with you until your ears bleed. OK?"

Emma smiled at him and nodded. Dean grinned back at her and tossed her a comb for her wet hair. Everything had changed in the space of a day. She'd saved his brother and as far as Dean was concerned, her actions cancelled out everything she had done to date to deserve a bullet in the back of the head. He owed her more than he could pay back. Getting her free from this situation and home safe was something he now considered worth the effort


	8. Chapter 8

Later that evening, Sam took a break from his laptop and went in search of some dinner. When he returned, Nobody except Dean was particularly interested in eating. Sam pushed his chicken salad around his plate until Dean's phone rang. He set his meal aside and listened intently to Dean's conversation with Bobby. Emma was also listening and started to giggle.

"What?" queried Sam.

"Do you have any idea how insane this all sounds?"

Sam shrugged then tried to concentrate. His brother was discussing the technicalities of locating the coven, what they could use to cover Emma's tracks and which, if any, binding spell would weaken them.

Dean frowned at Emma as he passed the phone to Sam. "There's nothing funny about what we're facing here," he snapped.

By this time she was rocking with laughter. Hearing a little hysteria creeping in, Dean pushed his chair back and made his way towards her. Emma stopped laughing abruptly, stood and putting both hands on his chest, shoved him backwards.

'You've hit me enough already,' she said quietly.

'I wasn't going to Emma. I'm sorry I...' Dean raised a hand towards the faint purple mark on her cheek and then let it drop.

'You _ever_ hit me again Winchester," said Emma. "I swear to God I'll rip it off.'

Dean blinked at the non-specific nature of the threat. _'She's back!_' he thought, with a mixture of relief and trepidation.

"You Okay?" he queried, uncomfortable with her sudden mood swings.

"I've been thinking," she announced abruptly.

"Oh crap," sighed Dean. Sam finished his conversation with Bobby and turned to listen.

"Crap is right and I've had enough of it. I've been a snivelling, whining, pathetic little wimp for long enough and things are going to change."

The boys looked uneasy. This couldn't be good.

"I'm not running any more. I'm taking this fight to the evil skanks and it's getting finished one way or another. You know where they are don't you Dean? What did that Bobby man say?"

"He's on his way so I'll let him fill you in. We don't know for sure. We've got a strong lead and after he gets here, me and Sam are heading out."

"Get stuffed Winchester," snarled Emma. "This is my fight, not yours or Sam's. You're not dumping me now!"

"Emma settle down," reasoned Sam. "You need to listen and try to be calm."

"I don't feel the need to be particularly."

"You'll be safe with Bobby," Sam ploughed on. "Give us a day or two and this will be all over."

"No, I don't think so." Emma got up and started to throw her things together.

"You're not going anywhere," growled Dean. "Now sit down before I put you down."

Emma grinned at him. "Not going to work this time pretty boy."

Dean took a deep breath and willed himself to stay calm and in control. "We're not gonna put you in any more danger than we already have. That was my mistake and I'm sorry. Believe it or not," he said, "I do care what happens to you, Emma."

"That's nice to know, but it doesn't change anything." Emma headed towards the bathroom for the last of her stuff."

"I told you to stay put!" snarled Dean.

"Yeah, and knowing how I always do what you say, you really expected me to didn't you," she retorted. "Look, you can bluster and flounce if you must, but make it snappy – my time is running out."

Sam closed his eyes briefly. "_Flounce?_ _She had to use the word_ _flounce_?"

"Emma, you're wasting your time here,' reasoned Dean as he fought not to rise to the bait. 'Try to look at this rationally. Are we going to cut you loose and leave you without any sort of protection?"

"Oh crap! I'd forgotten you have a thing about that."

"About what?" snapped an exasperated Dean.

"The whole women need protecting song and dance." She rolled her eyes at Sam. "He doesn't do that to you does he, coz I think I'd have shot him by now."

Sam couldn't help smiling at the truth of that observation. "Come on Emma," he reasoned. "As you said yourself, times running out. The only option we have is leaving you with Bobby."

"As I also said myself, you're not leaving me behind. I'm not walking away from this."

"Then I'll just have to drag you away, won't I?" hissed Dean.

Sam watched with a sinking heart as Emma squared up to his big brother. "I'm in this just as much as you are," she said indignantly. "Probably more. I'm staying with you and Sam."

"Not gonna happen little girl."

"Why, because you say so?"

"Well...yeah," retorted Dean. "How many times do I have to tell you, you'll just get in the way."

"Get stuffed Winchester. I get to decide."

Sam tried to smother his amusement. He already knew what the outcome of this battle would be so he just sat back to watch Dean struggle with the inevitable.

"That attitude right there is why you're not coming."

"This attitude right here is why I'll die trying! Listen! I'm not some sad little weakling…."

"I'm not saying you're weak," snapped Dean. "...well, maybe I am, but that's just temporary, I know that. Thing is, you're not leaving 'till I say so."

"Yes I am. Why are we still arguing about what's already been decided?" Emma folded her arms and calmly stared both boys down.

Dean sighed heavily. He knew Emma well enough to know that her mind was made up. He could yell and rant, threaten her with physical harm, even throw her over his shoulder and haul her kicking and screaming out to the car and get her locked up some place, but she'd get away eventually and make her way back into danger. In truth she was probably better off right under his nose.

Sensing victory, Emma pushed a little harder. "What's it going to be Dean. Do I need to do this by myself? Or," she teased, "if I can't convince you to let me go finish this myself, can I borrow Sam? I won't break him I swear and you can have him back in a day or so."

Sam laughed but Dean just glared down at Emma. "No, I want you where I can see you. We do this right this time. No more screw-ups. I mean it Emma, you'll do as you're told or so help me God, I'll leave you tied up in the trunk until this is done."

"Deal," smiled Emma. "So what's the big plan? I could be bait!"

He moved back to his chair and smirked at her. "Not getting yourself killed is a solid plan. Not getting Sam and me killed has even more merit."

Emma grinned and dropped her duffle back on the bed. She reached for the shotgun and tested the weight of it. Sam's arm snaked out and lifted the weapon out of her hands.

"I don't think you want to be fooling with that. Listen to me Emma, house rules. You don't touch our equipment and you especially don't touch weapons you aren't trained to handle."

"Yeah, I know," sighed Emma. It's right up there with 'Thou shalt not mess with Dean Winchester's creaky old heap of..." Dean glowered. "...Very fine classic vehicle._'_"

Sam flashed her a grin. "Nice save."

"I thought so," smirked Emma. "Pretty smooth and seamless. D'you think he noticed?"

Dean fixed her with a very stern glare, but decided to let it pass.

"So boys…..about that weapons training…"

"No!" they both snapped back.

"When Bobby gets here you're talking, and I mean everything," warned Sam. "We need to plan this right and he knows his stuff. You'll like him."

Emma wasn't sure she liked Bobby at all. He seemed gruff and impatient, but the boys seemed to think the world of him. When he arrived he nodded to her briefly then asked the boys to step outside with him. They returned ten minutes later and without saying a word, Bobby pulled up a chair opposite her, Sam sat on the other bed and Dean leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. Emma knew they were trying to intimidate her. Even Sam was unsmiling and stern looking. She returned Bobby's gaze unflinchingly. "Go ahead," she sighed.

"Where's your Daddy at now?"

"Dead." Emma replied shortly.

"How and when?"

Emma didn't reply. "Come on girl!" snapped Bobby. "The times long passed for evasion. We need to get this done."

"He was mugged three months ago when he was visiting me in San Francisco."

"I'm sorry. Your Mom?"

"Long gone."

"Fire?" queried Sam.

"No," frowned Emma. "Cancer when I was ten."

"Your brothers?"

"Safe," she snapped. "I'll never, ever say where. So move on."

Bobby nodded briefly and went on with his interrogation. "How did you meet Nathan de Courcy?"

"Professor de Courcy? Why?"

"Just answer me. I'm not gonna ask you anything I don't need to know."

"He taught Myths and Legends in college. I took it as an elective."

"Did you have a special interest in that class? Did you get on especially well with the teacher?"

"No and no not really. It fitted in with my classes and gave me the right number of credits. I think I used to piss him off actually."

"How and why?"

"By playing Devils Advocate and debunking his theories. It was all a load of crap anyway…." Emma tailed off when she remembered who she was talking to. "Or maybe not," she conceded. A face suddenly popped into her head. The ice blue eyes of the man in her dream belonged to the Professor. Before she could mention it Bobby moved on.

"You've been marked by an extremely powerful sect. They're credited with some of the most notorious atrocities and gruesome crimes in recent times. We're talking worldwide here. That high school in Brazil and the hospital in Lagos are likely to be their work. There was also a nun in Mexico, but the church made that one disappear. You were next up."

"Why me? I swear to you, I've never dabbled in any of this stuff. I don't even like occult movies. Rosemary's Baby left me scarred for life…."

Emma struggled to keep her composure as Bobby outlined everything they'd been able to piece together with the help of Sam's visions, the symbols in her house and their joint research. If the usual pattern was followed, Emma was to have wiped out a class of first graders before setting herself on fire. Any survivors would have burnt with her.

"The ritual calls for a non believer who's also a person of virtue," explained Sam gently. "Purity corrupted by an evil act. It adds to the power of the ritual. Bobby believes that it's the key to why you were picked out."

"That and the fact that you pissed your professor off with your laid-back winning personality," grinned Dean.

"I'm not a non believer," she protested, ignoring Dean. "I said I was mad at God, not that I didn't believe in him."

"No that's not what counts. You don't follow Satan and that's what it means."

"Oh, I'm so screwed!" groaned Emma. "Or I should have been," she added bleakly.

Dean looked over at Sam and smirked. 'Told ya so!' written all over his face.

"Where do we go from here?" she said as she got up and started pacing. Dean moved up behind her and Emma froze. She knew what was coming and her knees turned to jelly. This wasn't fair. She wasn't ready.

Dean saw her cringe and pulled her back against him. "Hey, no Emma! That's not…we're just trying to keep you safe. You know I'm not going to harm you, right?"

Emma leaned back into him, briefly resting her head wearily against his chest. "Yes you will," she murmured. "Sooner or later you'll probably have to." Sam caught Dean's eye and winced. Emma pulled away, turned and looked up at Dean. "Just promise me one thing."

"Try me" hedged Dean.

"Tell me first, OK. I can't do this if every time you walk behind me... just tell me. And please, don't cut my throat...that's just nasty...In fact, lets not do knives or machetes at all, okay?"

"Jesus Christ Emma!" winced Sam. "That's enough!"

"Listen up little one," Dean said softly. "This isn't gonna happen, but if it did, you wouldn't feel a thing. You have my word."

"You know," smiled Emma, "in a deeply disturbing sort of way, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Dean let out a short bark of laughter and turned to Bobby. "I still think your place is the most secure. It'll buy us more time and we can plan our next move. If you can sit on Emma, me and Sam will go after Professor what's his name and get this over with."

Emma opened her mouth to protest about being left behind yet again, but before she could utter a word the floor under her feet started to vibrate. As the windows started to rattle she turned to Sam. "Earthquake? In Colorado, Kanses, wherever the hell we are now? Do you get…?"

Emma felt the air huff out of her body as Sam slammed into her. She found herself stuffed under the bed a fraction of a second before the door flew open and the windows all imploded. Sam and Dean dove for their weapons as Bobby started to chant. The howling wind almost drowned out the sound of shotgun fire as Sam and Dean pumped round after round through the open windows and door.

The wind dropped as suddenly as it had begun. Objects that had been hurtling around the room fell to the floor and everything went totally silent.

"Stay down!" Dean ordered as he approached the door. Looking out, all he could see were people stumbling out of their rooms. Some were cut and bloodied as they make their way out to the parking lot. The sound of a dozen car alarms was deafening.

"They're closing in," sighed Bobby. "They know where to find her and we're out of time."

As first light Bobby set out for his place to strengthen the defences. Emma and the boys followed. They stopped for fuel and breakfast at a busy intersection just outside of Topeka. As Sam filled up, Emma wandered towards the restrooms. Before she'd even taken half a dozen steps, she felt a hand grab her roughly by the elbow and snap her back.

"Winchester, would you for God's sake lighten up. I'm way past running, so please...stop yanking on me."

"Sorry," Dean said softly, loosening his iron grip slightly and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. He turned her around and pushed her firmly towards rear of the Impala. Emma dug her heels in.

"Seriously Dean. Restroom?"

"Oh for the love of…go ahead," Dean huffed. "You've got five minutes. Don't make me come looking for you."

Emma flipped him off and hurried away. Sam frowned after her. "You know Dean, you're probably not the best role model for that girl. She's starting to become worryingly like you."

"Hate to admit it Dude, but I think I'll be almost sad when we cut her loose," smiled Dean. His eyes followed her until she was safe inside the building.

"Yeah, me too," grinned Sam. "Since we met that poor girl, all your time's been spent torturing her. I've never had it so good." He leaned back against the Impala and watched the entrance to the truck stop. "Think we can trust her Dean? She caved pretty abruptly. She's even started following your orders. It's sort of unsettling."

"I've got her under control Sammy. She just needed a softer approach."

Sam snorted and looked at Dean incredulously.

"What? Are you doubting my charm and charisma?" demanded Dean.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Well Ok, how 'bout 'cause I'm bigger than her."

"Not really got you your own way so far Dude," Sam pointed out.

After a couple more minutes Dean started to get increasingly twitchy. Sam, in an attempt to avoid yet another battle between Emma and Dean, went to find her while Dean parked the car. He checked the food court on his way to the ladies room. The queue stretched out the door. Sam hovered outside looking anxious until a woman waiting for her brood of children to regroup took pity on him.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Her name's Emma. She's so high, brown hair, wearing a yellow hoodie. Do you think you could just…?"

"Sure, no problem," smiled the woman agreeably as she disappeared back into the restroom.

Sam tried to stay calm as a feeling of dread started to envelop him. The women returned a minute later. Sorry Honey, no sign. Did you try the food court?"

Sam nodded his thanks before reaching for his phone and hurrying back to join Dean. They swept through the truck stop one more time before returning to the Impala. Sam looked out at the four different routes leaving the area. "Shit Dean. Which way?"

Dean didn't respond. He pulled a devise out his jacket pocket and switched it on. Almost immediately it started to show a signal.

"What the hell Dean? You lowjacked her? When?"

"I put one in each of her new tops. It's in the yellow hoodie."

"I wondered why you…I thought it was a peace offering. She's gonna kill you Dude."

"God, I hope she gets the chance," replied Dean anxiously. "I don't think she's rabbited this time Sam. They've got her." He handed Sam the tracker and roared out of the car park.

A unwelcome thought entered Sam's head. "Dude, where did you get it?"

Dean ignored him.

"Answer me Dean," snapped Sam. "Do you have a tracker on me?

Dean thought about lying, before deciding that Sam would just find it anyway. "Yeah, since Duluth."

Glancing over at Sam's furious bitch face, Dean shrugged unrepentantly. "So sue me Sammy. I'm not going through another week like that again."

Sam was too furious to reply. He reached for his phone and called Bobby with an update.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean pushed the Impala down the freeway as fast as he dared. The last thing they could risk was attracting the attention of the police. Sam kept up a running commentary to guide Bobby.

The signal took them off the highway and down a series of increasingly narrow dirt tracks. The road was pretty ploughed up by lots of fresh tyre tracks. Sam watched as in the distance three helicopters swept in and touched down briefly. The moment Dean spotted a series of low structures he pulled the Impala off into the trees. Staying under cover, they moved towards the first of the buildings. They were little more than huts surrounding what appeared to be an abandoned recycling depot. There were piles rotting waste scattered all over the site, including old tyres, vast bundles of stripped wiring and barrels of oil and fuel. In an adjacent field there were dozens of smart high-end vehicles.

The boys cautiously crept towards the signal. It seemed to be coming from one of the huts. There was one guard posted at a barrier. The boy's pulled back and approached the guard from different directions. Sam appeared in front of him and before he had a second to react, Dean came up behind him and dispatched him silently with a knife. There was too much at stake to deal with this situation less than ruthlessly. Dropping the man to the ground, Dean stepped over him and ducking under the small window, joined Sam in front of the doorway. At Dean's nod, Sam drew his leg back and kicked so hard, the flimsy door was ripped off its hinges and landed on the floor of the hut. Sam and Dean followed with shotguns raised.

The hut was empty, save for Emma's clothes, which were scattered in one corner. Dean picked up the yellow hoody and retrieved the tracking devise. He then switched off his receiver and pocketed them both. Sam jerked his head up and signalled to Dean. Both men flattened themselves either side of the door.

Bobby had watched them take the guard out. He hid the body, then approached them cautiously. He hung back and called out softly.

"Dean? You still standing boy?" Sam?

Sam appeared at the door and beckoned him in. Seeing the pile of clothes, Bobby sighed and shook his head. He hadn't held out too much hope that they'd get here on time to stop the ritual going ahead.

"They're not wasting any time are they? Come on we've got to move," urged Dean.

"If we're too late boys, you know what has to happen, right? We already agreed that there's no other way. I wish to God there was."

Dean nodded, but Sam refused to meet Bobby's eye. As they followed him out of the hut Sam caught Dean's arm.

"She's still human Dean. You don't need a kill shot to drop her. Please, she doesn't deserve to die."

"I know man. I don't want this either. We'll do what we can. Faster we get to her, the better chance…"

Dean was interrupted by a burst of laughter coming from a large low brick building. As they crept closer they could see people standing around with drinks in their hands. "What the hell Dude? It's happy hour! Where are all the guards?"

"Nobody wants to miss the floor show I guess," replied Bobby.

Emma woke up to an overpowering sense of deja vous. This time the pain in her staining shoulder told her that it wasn't a dream. She was standing against a post on a raised platform. There were broad bands around her neck, waist and knees and her hands were tied behind her back. She was surrounded by a mass of flickering lights. Beyond that she could make out scores of people. They were milling around in little groups, all holding drinks and chatting in a relaxed animated fashion. Nobody was paying her the slightest attention.

Desperately trying not to let anyone know she was awake, Emma peered through the glare from the candles. It looked like a scene from some sort of corporate seminar. Both men and women were dressed in smart business suits and the snatches of conversation she overhead seemed to revolve around their latest acquisitions and business successes. Only the setting seemed totally inappropriate. There was a foul smell of oil and old rubber. The ground had been cleared of debris, but puddles of water coated with an oily film remained.

"Ah, good. It seems that our guest of honour has joined us at last."

Emma turned her head towards the elegant silver haired man as he approached from the side. He was dressed in white.

"de Courcy! You piece of shit! This explains everything. We used to debate how you managed to ooze your way up through the faculty hierarchy with so little knowledge and ability. You look like a pimp in that suit." The little voice in her head was shrieking _'Silence! Are you mad? Would it kill you to talk nice to the incredibly powerful evil person who holds your life in his hands?' _

"Oh dear me. I see you haven't lost your pithy command of the English language. I'd love to shove a filthy, rancid rag in your spiteful little mouth, but our other guests do expect a certain amount of screaming along with their entertainment."

He turned his back on her and addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman, can I please have your attention. I must first start by thanking you for such an excellent turnout. I know the last week has been very trying with the constant change of venues. I do apologise for the less than salubrious setting for today's ceremony. I'm afraid that our vessel proved rather difficult to pin down. However, let me assure that that the benefits from our endeavours will more than compensate."

There was a smattering of polite applause.

"I can see that you're all anxious to begin, so without further delay, could everyone please take their places." He left the stage and made his way to the back of the crowd.

Emma fought to keep her teeth from chattering. Dressed in a thin white shift dress, she was cold as well as terrified. _'Please boys,' _she begged silently, '_don't let them do this. If you're here, if you've found me, kill me now!'_

de Courcy walked slowly through the crowd, flanked by two men holding small bowls. He was chanting in Latin and the crowd were droning out responses. When he reached her, he dipped his fingers in one of the bowls and used the foul smelling paste to paint a symbol on her forehead and cheekbones.

Some of the paste dribbled down to the corner of Emma's mouth. She felt the bile rising in her throat. "_Oh what the hell_," she thought, "_why not_!' Emma vomited copiously down the front of his chest.

de Courcy was livid. "You filthy bitch, how dare you defile a scared rite!" he hissed.

Raising the short sword he was clutching in this left hand, he jabbed her torso several times. None of the cuts were too deep, but the stinging burning pain took her breath away. One of the assistants pushed the second bowl under her wounds to collect some of the blood that had started to flow. de Courcy turned his back on her and resumed the chant.

Emma closed her eyes and started to pray. The adrenalin coursing through her body seemed to heighten her senses. She caught the faintest trace of a familiar scent and thought she heard the subtle creak of very old, soft leather. The next sound she was sure of was a knife being unsheathed. Feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Emma found herself frozen with horror.

"You promised," she barely breathed. "You promised you wouldn't cut my throat."

"Shut up!" Dean whispered. "Shut up and hold still!"

He was hidden by both the shadows of the dark gloomy warehouse and by the flickering candles. de Courcy and his followers were wrapped up in the ritual. Dean cut the leather bands and the ties around her wrists. then fastening the band loosely around her neck he whispered, ""Stay there, don't move until I say so." He stepped back and disappeared.

de Courcy turned back to her with the bowl of blood in his hands. He started to bring it up to Emma's mouth. Instinct told her that if she touched that blood, everything would be lost. She was about to bolt when Dean reappeared clutching a tyre in his hands. He rammed it down over de Courcy's shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to drop the bowl of tainted blood.. Bringing his leg up he kicked him full force in the gut, sending him flying back off the platform. Shotgun blasts from Sam and Bobby on either side took care of the other two men who had helped with the ritual. They jumped up next to Dean and flanked him, pumping rounds into the crowd as they backed away towards the rear exit. .

Dean grabbed Emma's arm and started to pull her away. She wrenched herself free and grabbing a candle, hurled it into the crowd. The fuel soaked floor ignited, but was quickly stamped out. She picked up several more and hurled them into the crowd. Several larger fires started to run along the ground. People started to panic and stampede through the rapidly forming dense smoke. A man fell to the floor and reappeared with his hair and clothes on fire. He was barrelling into other cult members, grabbing at people and spreading the fire. As he was kicked back and shoved away, he toppled a drum of waste oil and fuel. The last thing Emma saw as Dean dragged her away by the scruff of the neck was a sheet of flame that ripped through the warehouse.

They pulled back from the inferno and watched in horrified silence as the building was rapidly engulfed in flames. Emma knew she should be feeling overwhelming guilt, but she was too numb.

As if he was reading her mind, Bobby put a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, if you listen to nothing else, I need you to take this in. They died in the same way as hundreds of their victims. There'd have been others too. Your little ones at the school were next."

Emma nodded dumbly. She knew Dean would support her actions but she was afraid to look at Sam. He surprised her by moving in front of her and mindful of her cuts, giving her a very gentle hug.

They moved to the front of the warehouse. Two or three of the smouldering bodies were still moving on the ground. Knowing what Dean and Bobby were about to do, Sam steered Emma towards another warehouse and out of sight. She started to pace and rub her bare arms as she became increasingly agitated. "Whoa," Sam rested his large hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently back against the wall. "Just rest here for a spell."

The cuts to her body appeared to have stopped bleeding. Sam wanted to take a look but didn't feel she would let him touch her right now. He took his jacket off and quickly removed his shirt. Passing it to her he said, "We're almost done here. Will you be okay for a minute?"

Emma nodded and as she pulled on the enormous shirt, she tried to block her ears to the sound of the clear up. She watched Bobbie and Sam take off at a run towards the car park. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. A man was walking towards her. His head was blackened and melted looking. Most of his once white suit was burned away. The skin on his hands seemed to split before her eyes as he hefted a short sword from one twisted hand to another.

Not knowing where Dean was Emma took off into the building alongside. She realised her mistake almost immediately when de Courcy forced her further into the huge storage shed as he blocked the only exit. She was transfixed as he raised the sword above his head. The sound of Dean screaming at her to drop jolted her from her paralysis. She threw herself backwards, but not before a white hot pain lanced from just below her ribs, across her stomach and ending at her hip bone. The sound of yet another shotgun blast receded as she slipped quietly to the ground.

Emma fought against consciousness. She knew that if she woke up it was going to hurt like hell. She could hear Dean's voice from a great distance, then the feel of a calloused hand gently stroking her face. She knew she couldn't put it off any longer and let herself float to the surface. The first thing she saw was Dean's anxious face. He smiled down at her briefly before letting his eyes dart around the warehouse.

"We have to move," he whispered. "I need to find Sam and Bobby."

"Just give me a minute, okay?"

"I can't, I'm sorry." He slid his arms under her and lifted her as gently as he could.

"Can you walk?" he whispered in her ear as he carried her over discarded pieces of rusting equipment and made his way towards the door. The answer was all too obvious, but he wanted to keep her talking.

"No. I don't think so," she replied softly.

"What do you mean no?" he chided with mock anger. "You know, this is becoming a habit with you. I'm getting worn out lugging your idle ass around."

"Shut up," Emma said groggily. "If you don't like it, stop tying my feet together."

"Once," Dean protested. "I only did that once."

"And you could stop drugging me."

"Again," snorted Dean, "just the once."

"Another suggestion...how about you give the whole strangulation thing a miss." She let her head fall onto Dean's broad comfortable shoulder and closed her eyes. "Also, perhaps next time I volunteer to play around in your world, just say no."

"That you can be sure of!" he grunted.

Dean stepped out into the open air and searched for any sign of Sam. Emma was hit with a particularly savage burst of pain and bucked in Dean's arms. He shifted her slight weight and grumbled, "Hey Emma, sit still damnit. You're not getting any lighter here."

"Wuss!" she gasped. "Besides, you could certainly use the exercise." She curled herself into Dean's chest as she tried to control her breathing. "I was just saying to Sam this morning," she panted, "you need to lay off the cheeseburgers. We both agreed that you're looking a little flabby."

"Bullshit," he returned with the confidence of a man who knew he was in his prime. He looked down at her and tried to smile encouragingly. "I'm just glad you don't weigh 200 lbs."

"Me too," she smiled as she drifted off again.

"Hey Emma, don't you fall asleep on me. Emma, open your eyes." He was about to give her a sharp shake, but thought better of it. Instead he dropped his head down and bellowed in her ear. "You wake up this minute Emma or I'm gonna drop you on your lazy butt."

Getting no response he tried to control his rising sense of panic. At that moment he saw Sam running towards him still clutching his weapon. .

"We got them both. Crap, Dean! What happened?"

"de Courcy got past us. He found her."

"Where is he?"

"Scattered about over at least twenty feet." Dean replied savagely.

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad man, I don't know... Get the car Sam. Just get the car. We can..." He tailed off as her eyes fluttered open. As Sam raced off, he lowered himself to the ground and settled her on his lap. She remained silent and boneless as he pulled her back against his chest and cradled her in his arms. She tried to raise her head.

"Hey, hey! Just rest a minute," he murmured as he held her face. He didn't want her to see the full extent of her injuries. "Sammy's here too. We've got you now, everything's gonna be fine. It's over."

Emma tried to raise her head again, but Dean tightened his grip. "Shhh. Just lie still."

"That bad?"

"It's just a scratch. Nothing we can't get fixed," he smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah well, I think maybe it feels worse than it looks. Dean?"

"What sweetheart?"

"Don't just dump me or burn me."

"What? No, be quiet Emma. You just focus on breathing both ways. de Courcy and his coven are dead and nobody else is dying here today."

"I think I might have to Dean. I'm not sure I can hold on."

"Shhh, don't talk."

"No, just listen. I don't want my brothers to think I just took off. Take me back. Please. Or put me somewhere someone will find me."

A trickle of blood worked its way down from the corner of her mouth. Dean wiped it away with his thumb and looked around for any sign of Sam and the Impala.

"You in much pain?"

"Truthfully, I can't feel much of anything. It's sort of nice and floaty. Cold though."

Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and spread it over her. She breathed in his familiar scent and felt herself relaxing further. The grinding pain she'd been feeling earlier had dulled to a gentle, steady throb. She heard the rumble of the Impala in the distance and felt a stab of fear. She didn't want Dean to move her. They'd put her in the back and she'd die alone.

"Dean, please, don't make me go. Can we stay here a bit?"

"Sammy's here and we're gonna get you some help. I'll stay with you. I'm not letting you go."

"I'll bleed on your seat and you'll get mad..."

"Oh, yeah, there is that. How about we just stick you in the trunk?"

Emma snorted, then groaned as a fresh trickle of blood escaped the side of her mouth.

"I don't feel so good, Dean." She raised her hand and reached out before letting it drop. Dean gently picked her hand up and rubbed the back of it in an attempt to comfort her.

"Shhh," he hushed, brushing his hand lightly over her face. "Shhh, you're okay now, I've got you."

Sam pulled the car up as close as he could get and jumped out. He was horrified to see how much Emma had deteriorated. He bent down to help Dean lift her, sliding his hands under her and picking her up slowly. Emma dropped her head back and screamed silently. Sam cringed and avoided catching his brother's eye.

"I've got her, just get in." Dean climbed into the back seat and reached out as Sam carefully passed her to him. He settled her across his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

Sam put his foot to the floor as the car tore up the track. They left Bobby to finish clearing up and told him they'd phone him as soon as they knew anything.

Throughout the seemingly endless journey Dean kept Emma awake with constant random chatter. As the waves of pain lessened, she locked eyes with him. Her face was ashen and sweat beaded her forehead.

"Shhh just listen, I've changed my mind. Don't leave a body. Too many people have seen you with me. Burn it. I don't need it. Find my brothers okay. You're hunters. You can do that, right?"

"Emma, for Christ's sake, enough!"

"Sam?" she gasped. "Can you hear me? You're the brains of this operation. Don't let him do anything dumb." Her breath was coming in short gasps. "Dean, I'm sorry, I have to go now."

"Don't you dare quit on me! Don't you dare. Just hang on a little while longer."

Emma looked up at Dean and smiled very slightly before her face relaxed into a look of total serenity and her body became boneless. He pulled her tighter into himself for a moment, kissed her forehead then looked up at his brother.

"Sammy, pull over man."

NOTE: What do you think? Should Emmma live or die. Let me know and I'll post the final chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

_Emma locked eyes with Dean and smiled very slightly before her face relaxed into a look of total serenity and her body became boneless. He pulled her tighter into himself for a moment, kissed her forehead then looked up at his brother. "Sammy, pull over man." _

"We're almost there. Just five more minutes…hold on Dude.

"She's gone Sam."

"We don't know that. Not for sure."

He looked back for his shoulder for a second before turning his attention back to the road. "Just check if she's breathing."

Dean ducked his head down and put his ear close to her face. He looked up and catching Sam's eye in the mirror, shook his head.

"Pulse?" pleaded an increasingly panicked Sam.

"For Christ's sake Sam…"

"Do it!" he snarled. "I'm not letting her go Dean. Not after all this."

Dean closed his eyes and felt for a pulse in her neck. He started to shake his head again when he felt the faintest irregular flutter. "How far out are we?"

"Three minutes. Dean, you're gonna have to breathe for her."

Even as he spoke, Dean had already begun to slide out from under her and was starting CPR.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital Emma was whisked away. A nurse approached the boys and started asking for basic details. Dean looked at her for a second and then turned and walked away. Sam apologised and saying that he'd be right back, trotted after his brother. Dean was leaning into the Impala shuffling through the fake IDs and insurance cards.

"We're not leaving her Sam."

"Not for a minute Dude. Whatever happens, we're taking her home."

Dean nodded briefly and made his way back into the ER as Sam moved the car from the entrance.

Five days, a police investigation into the unidentified assailant and two surgeries later, Emma was getting feisty. "I'm bored Winchester. You promised you'd take me home."

"And I will," sighed an increasingly exasperated Dean. "Just as soon as we get the okay from the Doc's, we're out of here."

As Sam returned from the coffee machine he could hear raised voices. He winced apologetically at a nurse and ducked into Emma's room. "Guy's, you've gotta keep it down. There's sick people all over the place and I can hear you two as far as the nurses station."

"Sam, pass me my clothes. Your brother is being an ass again. Just get me something to sign and we can take off."

"You're staying right here," said Sam.

"Sam please, come on! I'm climbing the walls here."

'Yep, I get that, I do, but it's just tough 'coz you're staying anyway."

"Like hell! I'll do it myself. Out both of you. Go, shoo…"

"Now listen up Emma!" snapped Dean. "You've caused me one too many sleepless nights recently. I'm tired, hungry, dirty and more than a little cranky, so just shut the hell up and do…."

"You? Cranky? Who'd have thought? Well at least you haven't let it affect your sweet natured, laid-back, happy-go-lucky disposition." She turned her back on him. "Sam you're still my favourite, so give me my stuff."

"Now why would I do that? Anyway, truth is I don't think you have any clothes. What's left is in the car and your not getting them. Now shut your eyes, shut your mouth and give us all a little rest."

Dean grinned as he leaned back against the wall with his arms folded. "See? It's not gonna happen little girl."

Emma felt her frustation reaching boiling point. The danger was past, but she was still being controlled by these two over bearing, over protective men. "Well excuse me Grandpa. All due respect to old folks - you being all of what twenty-seven, twenty-eight? Stop calling me little girl! I'm twenty-one already, so go boil your head Winchester because you don't get to choose for me."

"Is that a fact?' said Dean evenly.

"Yes! she snarled. "Last time we had this conversation you tried and I seem to remember you buggered it up royally."

Sam rolled his eyes and headed for the door again. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" snapped Dean.

"Out, anywhere, I don't know where and I don't care," Sam growled. "I'm just about ready to put you both out of your misery, so if I hear…"

A short rap on the door interrupted him. A smartly suited middle-aged woman entered the room and looked the two boys over. "Which one of you gentlemen is Peter Townshend?"

"That would be me Ma'am," said Dean as he offered her his full on lady killer smile. She appeared unmoved.

"My name's Mrs Williams from administration. There seems to be some problem with your insurance cover."

"That can't be right Mrs Williams. I can assure you that…"

"I'm sure that this can all be sorted out with a phone call. Would you care to follow me to my office?"

"No problem. Could you just give me a minute to find my details? Sam? Is everything still in the car?"

"Err, yes…I err," stammered a panicked looking Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes and followed Mrs Williams out.

"Shit!" snarled Sam. "What the hell else can go wrong?" He opened a window and tied a bandana to the latch before moving over to Emma's monitor and disconnecting various signals and alarms. Scanning the labels, Sam removed two of her IV lines, but left the antibiotics in place. He handed her the half full IV bag and helped her sit and swing her legs over the side of the bed, before easing her carefully into a robe.

"Sam, should I be concerned about how very experienced you seem to be at escaping from hospitals?"

"Oh I have many hidden talents."

At that moment Dean rapped on the window. Sam opened it fully and helped Emma climb up onto the ledge. Dean was waiting with a borrowed wheelchair. He reached up and lifted her down. "Get in," he urged, looking around to make sure they hadn't been spotted.

"Piss off. I can walk," she snapped perversely, knowing she wouldn't get far even if she had shoes. Her head was pounding from the sudden activity after days of boredom.

"Emma. Get in this God damn chair before I break your God damn legs."

"Well yes, why not," snarked Emma. "So far I've been kidnapped, drugged, dislocated, disembowelled and dropped on my head from a great height. I feel cheated that you haven't managed a couple of compound fractures as well."

Dean opened his mouth to dispute her claim before realising he really couldn't. "Your head's fine," he muttered as he helped settle her into the chair. Sam tossed a blanket to Dean which he threw over her knees to hide the IV bag and her bare feet. Sam pulled himself through the window and followed them to the Impala.

It took them two days to reach Mount Angel. Sam insisted that they take plenty of rest stops and Emma slept in a proper bed at night. They ran out of IV antibiotics after the first day and Emma was driven insane by both boys constantly checking her for any signs of infection

Sam called the school board claiming to be an administrator at the hospital and explained Emma's absence. He asked them to contact her school and inform them that she wouldn't be returning before the end of the school semester. There was only another week to go anyway.

Emma, resentful that she hadn't been consulted, tried to wrestle the phone from Sam. He just slapped her hands away and held up a warning finger. If she was honest, Emma was relieved to have more time to recover. She just wanted everything back to normal and knew that the boys were anxious to be on their way.

Her house was just as she left it. The sight of the symbols painted and carved into the walls and floor made her feel sick and light-headed. Sam bundled her off to bed while Dean drove off in search of paint and wood filler.

When she woke several hours later, she could smell paint fumes and hear the sound of San and Dean arguing. She pulled herself out of bed and made her way out to join them. Sam spotted her first and guided her into a chair. Dean came over with a glass of water and a handful of pills. He brought his hand up to check her temperature, but when Emma growled he dropped it with a frown.

"So boys, what were you fighting about? Let me guess, one of you has found a new gig and the other doesn't feel I've been bullied and bossed around enough."

Sam smiled and nodded briefly. "Is there someone we can call for you? How about your brothers?"

"No. Not yet. They can't ever know what happened. They'd murder me if they ever found out I was keeping stuff from them. Sam, you think Dean's over protective? Pray you never meet my brothers."

Dean's eyes lit up. Her brothers could come and take her off their hands. What else were big brothers for. It was the perfect solution. "Emma, tell me now, where are they at?" he ordered.

"Believe me when I tell you you'll never know. After they skin me alive for getting into trouble in the first place, they'll come looking for you."

"Why? What did we do?" asked an indignant Dean.

"Well there was the abduction, drugging, using me as vampire bait…okay that might be a hard sell, but when I tell them you slept with me…"

"What!" thundered Dean.

"…in the same bed…The shotgun wedding would be swift and painful."

"Emma, that's enough," laughed Sam.

Emma grinned back. "Oh but he makes it so easy. Listen, I know you have to get back to your world. I'm more grateful than I can say, but we both know it's time."

Sam moved around the house removing any sign that they'd ever been there. Dean dragged his feet and argued with Emma. In the end she agreed to call Holly and get her to come and stay for a few days.

When they were all set, Sam approached Emma and folded her into a very gentle bear hug. He kissed the top of her head and held her for a moment before walking down the steps. Dean glared at Emma and followed Sam. As he passed, he briefly squeezed her hand before climbing into the Impala.

Sam smiled and waved and Dean saluted briefly before pulling away. Emma looked at the paper Dean had pressed into her hand. It simply read, 'If you ever need us' followed by his cell phone number.

THE END

ALTERNATIVE ENDING IN CHAPTER 11. Do not read if you prefer happy outcome.


	11. Chapter 11

_**PLEASE NOTE: This is an alternative ending for those who can't stand Emma. I posted this on another site and some people liked it better. If like me you prefer a happy ending, I suggest you give this one a miss!**_

_Emma locked eyes with Dean and smiled very slightly before her face relaxed into a look of total serenity and her body became boneless. He pulled her tighter into himself for a moment, kissed her forehead then looked up at his brother. "Sammy, pull over man."_

When the impala came to a halt, Dean slid out from under her, climbed shakily from the car and without a word, he walked off down the highway. Sam let him go. He leaned forward and dropping his head onto the steering wheel, he tried to make some sense of the last few days. They had come so close to success. The coven was destroyed, the children were saved along with countless victims from the future, but they hadn't saved Emma. He fetched a blanket from the trunk and wrapped her up. He then covered her over in the comforter she'd taken from their last motel.

They took her body home. Everything was as they left it a week before. It was three in the morning when Dean parked on an access road behind her house. They made their way silently across her back yard and using her keys, let themselves in. Sam moved around the house sprinkling lighter fluid to encourage an even, rapid burn, without leaving enough in any one place to arouse suspicion. They then turned the gas on full and as they waited for a decent build-up, Dean carried Emma's body into the house, still wrapped in the comforter, and left her on her bed. Without looking back he tossed a match on the carpet and waited just long enough to see it start to take hold. He nodded to Sam and the pair hurried to the impala and drove away without a backward glance.

In a quiet little town on the outskirts of Portland, Dean was sitting up on his bed channel hopping. Emma's photo appeared alongside footage of fire fighters kicking through the charred remains of her home. The reporter was talking about the tragic gas explosion that had claimed the life of a popular young student teacher. There were the usual shots of children bringing flowers to lay along the fence, comments from colleagues about how she'd be missed.

Emma hadn't been in the community for very long and Sam knew that in another couple of months, she'd be a distant memory. The fire wasn't being treated as suspicious. Dean snapped the TV off and lay back with his arm over his face. Sam knew when to stay silent.

He ran her name through Google, then selected a news photo of Emma laughing with a group of pupils. He copied and pasted it into his laptop. He wanted to remember her. She was owed that much.

THE ALTERNATIVE END


End file.
